


To See Another Night

by astrodestiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Cas is a doctor, Dean Winchester Has Issues, F/F, F/M, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Light Angst, M/M, Mary Lives, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2019-07-14 03:22:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16031945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrodestiel/pseuds/astrodestiel
Summary: After spending time in the hospital due to a drunken brawl gone wrong, Dean Winchester is just trying to stay sober and not lose his damn mind. He's in therapy, he has friends, and he has a job. His determination to stay away from new relationships is thrown out the window when the man who treated him, Doctor Castiel Milton, asks him out on a date.Between his new boyfriend(?) and his estranged little brother turning up out of the blue, determined to have a relationship with him, Dean's life is flipped on it's head.





	1. Chapter 1

“Tell me about your family.”

Dean glanced uncomfortably around the room, trying to avoid the brown eyes that were boring into him. He squirmed, feeling like she could see through his skin and into his soul.

The office was white, the kind of bright white that hurt his eyes. The place reminded him of the hospital room he had just been released from. The couches were a sort of off-white cream color with light blue pillows. A crocheted blanket was draped across the back. Dean guessed that it was to give the illusion of comfort. To make patients feel at home. It wasn’t working.

Dean glanced back over to the therapist. Her name was Mia Vallens. Her dark hair was short and tightly curled and she wore a lacy dark green blouse. Mia held a notebook and a pen, poised to take notes. Her eyes never left his face, staring him down as if she was a hawk. It slightly unnerved him until she smiled gently.

Dean cleared his throat.

“My, uh, my parents got divorced when I was little.”

Mia nodded, writing something in her notebook. “How old were you?”

“Around five.”

She nodded again. “And how did that affect you growing up?”

“My mom moved out. In the divorce, they agreed that they'd each get one of us. My mom took my little brother. Moved to California. I haven't seen either of them since.”

Mia gave him a remorseful look. “It must have been hard,” She said quietly, placing her pen down for a moment. “To grow up knowing that your mother is so far away, and to never get to know your brother. Have you attempted to contact either of them?”

Dean laughed humorlessly. “They won’t want to talk to me.”

Mia pursed her lips and wrote something again. “Why do you think that?”

Dean wrung his hands together uncomfortably, eyes darting around the room before focusing on a box of tissues on the glass coffee table in front of him.

“Mom chose to take Sam with her. She left me with him.”

“Him, meaning your father?”

Dean nodded.

“And why is it that you resented being with him? Your tone suggests that you weren't happy.”

“My dad wasn't a good guy,” Dean mumbled. “I was lucky if he was sober enough to go through McDonald’s for dinner.”

“And your father’s negligence, that was the root of your drinking problems?”

 

~

 

There it was. The reason that Dean had to sit on that fucking couch and tell a stranger about his stupid daddy issues.

Of course, he wouldn't be in therapy willingly. Dean Winchester didn't do feelings. He had just gotten out of the hospital a few weeks before. Some guys had jumped him outside of a bar and beat him into a pulp after he hit on one of their girlfriends. His best friend, Charlie, tearfully made him promise to get better and go to therapy.

Of course, Dean agreed. He couldn't say no to Charlie. Not while she was sitting on the edge of his hospital bed crying her eyes out. Dean knew he had a problem. He promised Charlie that he would get better. It had been four weeks since he last had any alcohol. Not that Mia wasn't a nice lady, but Dean knew that the therapy wouldn't help him. He didn't see how sitting down and talking about feelings for an hour every week could improve his life.

The session ended an hour later and, like he thought, it didn't help at all. If anything, when Dean walked outside, he felt exposed, like the therapy session had ripped away his skin and he had nothing to protect him. He glanced up at the gray sky and cursed when he saw that it was going to rain. He hoped that he could make it home before it started.

The therapy building was only two blocks away from his apartment. It was too close for Dean to justify driving, and he would have had to pay for parking anyway. Up until the sudden rain clouds, it was sunny that day. Now a storm seemed to just creep up on them.

Dean walked the two blocks to his apartment, moving faster than he normally would. Even though it was about to rain, it was still hot as hell. The rain just added humidity to the air.

It started to rain just as Dean reached his apartment building. He got inside, running a hand through his short hair and wiping the water on his worn-out jeans. When he got up to his apartment, Dean stopped to look at the liquor cabinet. 

After the last drunken brawl that wound him up in the hospital, Charlie had snuck into his apartment and dumped out all the whiskey, beer, and bourbon that was in his apartment. Dean couldn't bring himself to be mad at her. Charlie was the only person who stuck around and thought him worthy of being helped.

They met in high school when they were sixteen. That was around the time that he started to have a problem. Charlie had just moved to Kansas from Washington. On her first day at school, she started talking to him.

At first, Dean wouldn't even make eye contact with her. He assumed that his disinterest and poor manners would drive her off like they did with everyone else, but Charlie was determined to be his friend. She talked to fill the silence, talking about everything from her favorite movies to which girls she thought were pretty.

Eventually, Dean let his guard down and replied to her questions. Charlie was persistent, stubborn, and everything he needed. She stuck by him after he dropped out the following year. Even after she graduated, Charlie stuck around Lawrence instead of disappearing to attend MIT or Harvard like Dean thought she would. She got a good paying job at a corporation just outside of Lawrence. 

Charlie was nothing if not a damn genius. Every time Dean asked her why she didn't just leave to follow whatever bright and fulfilling career she was destined for, Charlie always answered the same. She would roll her eyes and say, “I didn't put all that effort into our friendship for you to cut me off because you think that I’m ‘too good’ for you. You can't get rid of me that easily.”

Dean guessed that was his problem. He never let himself get close to others because he thought they were too good for him. Charlie always insisted that he was a good person and he shouldn't put himself through the pain of being alone. She always told him that he was a good person who made some mistakes. That he was still worthy of happiness.

But Dean knew the truth. Charlie really was too good for him. It had been ten years since they met, and she was still there. She had seen all the horrifying sides of his personality, but she stayed. She spent her time pulling him out of piss filled alleys and taking him home when he got too drunk to remember his own name. She always got him food and aspirin when he was hung over. Charlie was too damn good for him and Dean was just too selfish to push her away.

Dean turned away from the cabinet and made his way to the fridge. He sighed when he saw that it was empty except for an old block of cheese and some ketchup. He straightened up and glared out the window. The rain was coming down hard.

Dean pulled his leather jacket back on and grabbed the umbrella he kept by the door. He glanced at the glowing digital clock on the stove. It was almost six. He could run to Benny’s restaurant, eat, and make it home before dark. The restaurant was about a block away. He sighed again and started to make his way out of the building. 

The August air was humid when Dean stepped outside of the building. The walk to Benny’s was short, but the hems of his jeans were soaked by the time he made it to the small Cajun restaurant. He had eaten Cajun a lot more than normal in the last few months. Dean used to eat at the Roadhouse, a bar on the edge of town, but he had to stop going after he quit drinking.

Benny’s was the only place he had left. It was a small, local restaurant. Benny was the owner, but he was one of the only two cooks there. Benny was a nice guy. He was friends with Charlie through some LGBT support group she went to. Charlie introduced them in hopes of setting them up. Dean went on a couple dates with the guy, but they decided to just be friends. Sure Benny was attractive, but Dean wasn't interested in dating. He had never been one for relationships, and he had enough on his plate.

Benny was a good friend. He knew all about Dean’s past and stopped serving beer in his restaurant so Dean didn't have to be reminded. He had visited Dean when he was in the hospital the month before. They had only known each other for about a year, but he was grateful to have someone like Benny in his life. Dean trusted him. 

When Dean walked into the restaurant, Benny was up at the counter talking to some guy wearing a suit. When he looked over the man’s shoulder and saw Dean, he gave him one of his eye-crinkling smiles, the kind that made a person feel warm and fuzzy. Dean stayed back, letting Benny finish his conversation. He didn't want to interrupt. Benny saw him hanging back and rolled his eyes slightly, waving for him to come over. 

Dean left his umbrella by the door and walked forward, stopping when he reached the counter. When Benny waved his hand to the guy he was talking to, Dean turned to look at him. 

“This is my friend, Dean,” Benny said in his southern drawl. When Dean locked eyes with the other guy, recognition flashed in his brain. 

“And Dean, this is -“

“Castiel,” Dean mumbled. 

Castiel smiled at him. “It's nice to see you again Dean.”


	2. Chapter 2

Dean didn't remember much about being in the hospital. It was a blur of bright lights, nurses, and Charlie and Benny coming to visit him. He barely remembered why he was there in the first place. According to Charlie, Dean got too drunk and messed with the wrong guy. A group of men jumped him while he was leaving the bar. He got in a few punches, but eventually, they overpowered him. 

Ellen found him beaten in the alley while she was throwing out bottles. The men were already gone by the time she called the police. She didn't get a good look at them and Dean didn't remember anything about the attack, so the police never found them. Dean had a concussion, cracked ribs, and bruises all over his body. Ellen claimed that she didn't recognize him at first when she found him. 

The one thing he did remember about the hospital was Castiel. Well, Dean knew him as Doctor Milton. 

Doctor Milton was the one who treated him while he was in the hospital. He was at the hospital for about two weeks because of his concussion. Apparently, it was severe and they wanted to hold him for observation. His ribs weren't too bad, so they healed faster. Doctor Milton insisted on being the one to take care of him. 

The doctor was a weird, awkward guy. He always tried to make conversation but he never seemed to know what to talk about. Dean liked him. He was nice enough and he seems to know not to ask Dean about the attack. 

Benny looked between them. “You know each other?”

“Dean was my patient at the hospital when he had a concussion.”

Benny nodded and clapped his hands together. “I’m gonna get you fellas some food. Dean? You want your usual?”

Dean nodded absently, still looking at Castiel. Benny turned and walked through the kitchen door. Dean awkwardly took a seat at the counter as the other man continued to stare at him. They sat in awkward silence until Castiel cleared his throat.

"How are you? I was very concerned for you after you left the hospital.”

“I, uh, I’m good. The concussion’s pretty much cleared up.”

Castiel’s face softened. He seemed genuinely relieved that Dean wasn’t in any pain. It was weird since Dean barely knew the guy.

“Good. Do you come to this restaurant often? Benny mentioned that he would get your usual.”

“Yeah,” Dean said. “I come here a lot. It’s right next to my apartment and it’s the only place around here that doesn’t serve beer.”

Castiel tilted his head in confusion. “Why can’t you go to places that serve beer?”

Dean froze. “I, uh, I just don’t like the stuff. Hate the smell of it.”

Castiel didn’t look entirely convinced, but he nodded. Dean was relieved. He hadn’t meant for the comment about beer to slip out. He wasn’t comfortable with people knowing about his past. Especially hot doctors who were strangely concerned about his personal health. 

Besides, he probably wouldn’t ever see this guy again. Unless he was sent to the hospital again, which was very unlikely. Dean didn’t go anywhere but work and home. He didn’t talk to anyone but Charlie and Benny.

Dean was spared from any more conversation with Doctor Sexy when Benny came back out of the kitchen. He was holding a to-go box and a plate. The put the plate in front of Dean and handed Castiel the box. He waved his hand when Castiel pulled out his wallet.

“That one’s free, brother.”

“Benny, I can’t-“

“You’re an old friend. Think of it as a welcome present. You better come back here soon, hot wings.”

Castiel pursed his lips but didn’t say anything. As he stood, he waved to Benny and gave Dean a hesitant smile. Dean was so shocked that he forgot to smile back. The man turned and left the restaurant. Dean’s eyes followed him as he got into his car and drove away.

As soon as he left, Dean turned to Benny and raised an eyebrow. “Hot wings? How the hell do you even know that guy? No offense, but you’re not exactly similar.”

Benny laughed and leaned against the counter. “Guess that’s true. He was my roommate in college. Moved away after he got into some fancy medical school. Just moved back here two months ago.”

Dean nodded and turned back to his food. Benny walked back into the kitchen. Dean could hear him whistling something as he washed the dishes. It seemed like Benny was the only one working. He studied the chipped paint behind the counter. Benny had been talking about repainting for months, but couldn’t find the money for it.

It took Dean about twenty minutes to finish his food. He left $20 on the table, waved to Benny through the window, and grabbed his umbrella. The rain had slowed down to a light drizzle in the time it took him to eat.

It was still humid when he stepped outside the restaurant. Despite the small raindrops hitting his head, Dean kept his umbrella closed for the walk home. The rain was much too light for Dean to justify using an umbrella. All it did was catch on his hair in small drops.

By the time Dean got inside his apartment building, the rain had picked up again. He waved to his neighbor, Missouri, outside of his apartment door. Missouri was another fixture in his life. He didn’t consider them friends, but they were friendly to each other.

Missouri Mosely was a strange middle-aged woman who lived alone. She wore colorful shawls and crystals around her neck. She always smelled like a mix of essential oils and incense and had an air of being slightly off her rocker. She would stop people in the hallway and give then strange warnings. Predictions, she called them. Once, she told a woman in their building to avoid crosswalks. The woman ignored her and was hit by a car that day.

It was a regular occurrence in the building to get these cryptic warnings from Missouri.  
After Hester’s accident, people took them seriously. Some of the people in the building thought she was a psychic, but most just thought she was intuitive and listened to her gut.

Dean was just unlocking his door when a hand rested on his shoulder. When he turned around, he realized that Missouri had walked over to him and was now looking at him with a gentle smile on her face. Dean smiled back warily, knowing that she was about to tell him to avoid stairs or something.

“Hi, Missouri.”

“Someone’s gonna change your life soon,” Missouri said without greeting. “Just be ready. He’s gonna be your angel. Make sure you left him in, okay?”

Dean was slightly taken aback. Most of Missouri’s predictions were random and vague. (One time she told Dean to stay away from pigeons. He never figured out why). He pulled himself together and coughed quietly.

“Uh, I will. Thanks, Missouri.”

Missouri nodded and walked away. Dean smiled to himself as he watched her walk down the hallway and enter her own apartment. Strange as she was, Missouri always meant well. The reason why she always stood in the hallway and issued predictions was that she wanted to help everyone. Even people who sneered at her and told her to mind her own business. Her instinct was to protect.

Snapping out of his thoughts, Dean pushed open the door of his apartment and walked inside. He dropped his umbrella by the door and pulled off his boots. He hung up his leather jacket and walked further into the apartment.

Missouri’s words were heavy on Dean’s mind that night. He tried to distract himself by watching some soap opera rerun, but his mind kept wandering to what she said to him. “Someone will change your life soon.” That was some fortune cookie shit, and Dean had no idea what it meant.

Dean bounced between thinking about Missouri and her prediction and watching reruns of Days Of Our Lives for three hours. He hadn’t realized how much time had passed until he looked up and it was dark out. He glanced at the clock on his stove and decided to go to bed. It was almost 10, and he had work the next day.

By the time he got in bed, Dean was exhausted. The stress of therapy had crashed over him like a bottle to the head. He was half delirious, thinking about angels, his mother, and whether she knew that he would become such a screwup. Maybe that was why she left him behind and took Sammy.

It wasn’t until he was half asleep that Dean realized that when he pictured angels, all he saw was Castiel Milton.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean’s memories of his mother were very limited. After all, she left when he was five.

Of these limited memories, there was the way she would tickle him when he was pitching a fit and the smile on her face when he hugged his little brother. When Dean looked in the mirror, he could point out all the things that he got from her. His green eyes. The light dusting of freckles across his face. The dimples on his cheeks that became prominent when he frowned. 

In a way, it was a curse to look like his mother. There was the constant reminder that she left him. The constant reminder that she didn’t want Dean, she wanted his brother. Dean was left alone, his father cold and uncaring. Angry that whenever he saw his son, he was also reminded that Mary left.

The worst part was his brother.

Like his mother, Dean’s memories of Sam were small and faded. All he remembered was a chubby little baby with shaggy hair. Sam’s hair was one of the constant arguments that their parents had when they were together. The kid’s hair grew fast, and John always wanted to cut it. He always said that it made him look like a girl. Mary refused, insisting that Sam’s long curls were one of the cutest things about him.

Dean loved his brother. He remembered spending all of his time playing with Sam. On more than one occasion, he would get up in the middle of the night and go into Sam’s room. One of his parents would get up and find him curled up in Sam’s crib with him, holding the baby’s hand. He was afraid that something would happen to Sam at night.

Then everything changed. His parents divorced, his mother moved away, and he never saw Sam again. For a year after they left, Dean would sit in what used to be Sam’s nursery and cry until his father found him and sent him to his room for showing such a girly emotion.

Sometimes, Dean considered finding Sam online and reaching out to him. But every time he pulled up Google to search his name, he stopped. Sam probably didn't even know that he had a brother. He was only one when their parents got divorced. Obviously, Mary wouldn't tell him that she took him and left his brother in Kansas. 

Maybe Mary got remarried in California and had more kids. Maybe Sam had a dad and little siblings. Maybe Mary had more children and never thought about the little boy she left in Kansas who had her eyes. Perhaps she looked him up, out of curiosity of what happened to him. She would have seen the mugshots and sighed out of relief, knowing that she dodged a bullet. That she was right in leaving him behind.

The thought made Dean sick to his stomach.

One of the things that he always thought about was what Mary told him when tucking him in at night. She would kiss his forehead gently and say that angels were watching over him. Dean would wrap his tiny arms around her neck and feel safe.

It had been 21 years since he’d last seen his mom. The pain of her leaving was still fresh. He felt it every time he looked in the mirror and saw her features looking back at him

She told Dean that angels were watching over him. He wondered if that was still true.

~ 

Dean woke up at 6:30 the next morning. His alarm was loud, blaring right next to his ear. He turned the alarm off and took a second to stare at the ceiling and gather the will to get up. After a full minute of staring at his cracked ceiling, Dean signed and pulled himself out of bed. His limbs felt heavy and sluggish.

After taking a shower, Dean made some coffee and pulled out a few stale granola bars for breakfast. He would have to go to the store after work. He barely had enough food in his house to survive the morning. At 7:30, Dean left his apartment. He waved to Missouri, who was also leaving. She worked at some store that sold crystals and candles and palm readings. She gave him a knowing smile and said, “Good luck today, Dean.”

Dean gave her a somewhat vacant smile. He had no idea what she meant by that. It was just a normal Monday. He put the strange behavior out of his mind by the time he got down to the garage. It wasn't unusual for Missouri to say things like that. He had other things to worry about.

Dean started up his dad’s Impala and pulled out of the parking garage. It had stopped raining, but the roads were still wet from the storm the night before. The sky was cloudy, and the morning sun bathed everything in a dreary gray light. Along the roads, there were kids walking to school, people jogging, and one woman was walking her dog. 

Dean was in a relatively good mood when he pulled up to Singer’s Auto. He parked the Impala and walked into the employee’s only door. Bobby was already in his office doing paperwork. Dean knocked lightly on the open door. Bobby glanced up at him then turned back to the papers on his desk.

“Some guy came in and dropped off a Lincoln Continental. Real piece of crap. Said it wouldn't run.”

Dean looked back into the shop and saw a shitty looking tan car. “What year?”

“78. Could you take a look?

“Sure thing, Bobby.”

Bobby was right. The Continental was a piece of crap. Dean worked for hours to try and get the damn thing to turn on. Bobby let him know that the owner was coming in at 1 o’clock to get the car. It took a lot of work, but he finally managed to get the car running again. Dean figured it was a miracle that it didn’t collapse into dust. The thing clearly wasn't taken care of.

Dean went into the back and tried to clean up the best he could. He was going to meet with the guy who owned the Continental and let him know that he really needed a new car and then go to lunch. By the time he came back out into the shop, the guy was already there. He was sitting in one of the crappy waiting chairs and looking down at his phone. When he looked up, he smiled and Dean’s heart skipped a beat.

“Dean?” Castiel stood up, still smiling. “You work here?”

“Uh…” Dean placed down at Castiel’s clothes. He wasn't wearing his fancy suit for his doctor’s coat. Instead, he had on a ratty looking t-shirt and jeans. He looked good. Dean cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah. Monday through Thursday.”

“Were you the one to work on my car?”

Dean’s mind flipped back to the tan Continental. “Yeah. Took me all morning, but I got it running again. Your car is, uh…”

Castiel smiled again. “Shitty?”

Dean laughed. “Yeah. That's one way to put it.”

“I don’t use it much. I usually ride the bus to work. But I got an emergency call last night at eleven. I had to get to the hospital fast and all the buses were closed down by then. On my way home this morning the engine stopped.”

Dean took note of the bags under Castiel’s eyes. “When did you off work?”

“Around two.”

Dean whistled. “That sucks.”

“It’s what I signed up for when I became a doctor,” Castiel gave him a weak smile. “I wasn't too far away from my house, and I was far too tired to do anything about my car. I walked home and called a tow truck this morning.”

“Well, I fixed it up best I could, but I think this car is pretty much dead.”

Castiel sighed. “I was afraid that you would say that.”

“Sorry, man,” Dean said, tossing him the keys. “You’re gonna need a new car.”

Castiel studied his keys for a moment before looking back up. “When is your lunch break?”

“In ten minutes. Why?”

“Will you let me buy you lunch? To thank you for your hard work.”

“I appreciate it, but you kinda paid me to fix your car.”

Castiel let out a small laugh. “Fine. I think that you're an interesting man and I would like to get to know you.”

Dean’s face flushed red and he scratched the back of his neck. “Uh-“

“You don't have to. It's just an offer.”

Dean looked into Castiel’s impossibly blue eyes. He looked nervous but determined. Despite his mind screaming that Castiel is too good for him, Dean found himself nodding. A smile broke through the nervous look and lit up his entire face.

“Perfect. There’s a diner just down the road. I hope you don’t mind; I don’t want to push the limits on my car.”

“Yeah,” Dean said, his heart fluttering in his chest. “A diner’s fine.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this chapter took so long. i'll try to update as much as i can.

Later that afternoon, Dean found himself sitting in a booth at a diner. They had just ordered food, and so far on this awkward last minute date (Was it a date? Dean had no idea), the only conversations they had were stiff and uncomfortable. Dean really didn’t know what to talk about. He barely talked to his only two friends. He hadn’t been on an actual date in three years. 

Despite the painfully awkward silence, Castiel seemed to be fine. He spoke with ease and smiled often. Maybe he hadn’t picked up on Dean’s discomfort, or maybe he wasn’t as emotionally stunted as the other man. Either way, his presence was both comforting and intimidating at the same time. Maybe Dean was so uncomfortable because he didn’t know if this was a date or not, but he sure as hell would not ask.

They sat there in silence for a few minutes. If it was a date, this would be the part where they got to know each other better. That was what Dean was afraid of. What fun story should he tell first? The emotional trauma of his mother leaving, the negligence and cruelty of his father, or the habitual alcoholism he had been dealing with since he was 16?

He wondered which one would chase Castiel off the fastest. 

Once Castiel learned how fucked up he was, the guy would run faster than Dean could blink. What the hell would a hot, successful doctor want with some alcoholic high school dropout? After this pity date, he would never want to see Dean again. 

Dean was jolted out of his thoughts when a hand came into his line of sight. He hadn’t realized that he had been zoning out for a few minutes. He looked back up and saw Castiel staring at him. Concern clouded his stupidly blue eyes, and it overwhelmed Dean with the urge to kiss that worried look off his face. It was a stupid urge, and he squashed it down immediately. Dean cleared his throat. 

“Sorry.”

“Are you all right? You were unresponsive for a few minutes. Is your head okay? You said that your concussion healed, right?”

Of course. Above all else, Castiel was a doctor. For God’s sake, he was the one who treated Dean’s concussion in the first place.

“Yeah. Sorry. My head’s fine, just got lost in my thoughts for a minute.”

“Oh,” The worried look on Castiel’s face softened a bit. “All right. Just as long as you’re okay.”

“I’m good,” Dean said, giving the other man a small smile. “You did a good job patching me up. I’m fine.”

Castiel smiled. Not a small one, a large, toothy smile. The kind that made his whole face light up and eyes practically glow. “You’re really okay?”

“Yes,” Dean sounded slightly exasperated. “I got the best damn doctor there. Plus, uh, the view ain’t bad.”

Castiel’s smile turned mischievous. His eyes narrowed slightly as if it confused him, but he continued to smile. “Are you flirting with me?”

It was now or never. Even if Castiel wouldn’t want to see him after this, he could at least try to hook up with the guy. “Maybe I am. What are you gonna do about it, Cas?”

The nickname slipped out of his mouth so easily. Castiel didn’t comment on the nickname, he just blushed slightly and looked down at the table. He looked nervous again. 

“I’m going to ask you if you would let me buy you dinner later this week. I would very much like to see you again.”

Dean was saved from answering when the waitress placed their food in front of them. Castiel dropped his eyes to his burger and didn’t say anything else. He kept glancing up at Dean as he ate, clearly hoping for an answer. Dean nervously picked at the bun of his burger as he contemplated what to do. He kept his mouth shut, staring down at the plate. 

Dean knew the right thing to do was to let Castiel down easily. He desperately wanted to take the man’s offer. He really liked Cas. There was a battle going on between his head and his heart. His head was yelling for him to cut Castiel off. If Dean stopped talking to him at this point, he could save himself from the inevitable heartbreak of the man leaving him later. 

His heart, however, was clawing as the possibility of having a relationship with this man. It was desperate for any chance of affection from Cas. He was yearning for any relationship where Castiel would smile at him, regardless of the inevitable fallout. It was a little terrifying because nobody had ever made him feel that way. He had never been so desperate for affection he would forget about the fact that everyone always left him. 

Dean opened his mouth to answer Castiel’s proposition with every intention of saying no. He looked up from his plate with a gentle line to let the guy down easy. Something like ‘It’s not you, it’s me,’ or ‘You’re too good to be wasting your time like this.’ But when he locked eyes with Cas, when he looked into those blue eyes, they sucked him in like a vortex. In the distance, he heard himself answer. 

“I’d like that.”

Castiel smiled at him, and Dean wondered if it was possible to get drunk on somebody’s smile. There was something about the man’s smile that reminded him of the sun shining on the ocean. He wondered if it was possible that Castiel was the sun. There was just something about him that seemed to pull Dean in. 

Castiel looked away, and he remembered to breathe. Cas handed Dean his phone. It was pulled up to a new contact. 

“Can you enter your phone number? I’m usually fairly busy, but I can let you know what nights I have off.”

Dean nodded and typed his phone number into the phone. He glanced at the time. 

“I should probably get back to the garage,” Dean said, handing the phone back.

“Yes, of course. I’ll walk with you. I need to get my car.”

While Castiel waved down the waitress, Dean just watched him. The way he moved was just so confident. He seemed to be comfortable in his own skin, something that Dean knew nothing about. He only snapped out of it when Castiel pulled out his wallet to pay. 

“I can pay for myself,” Dean said quickly. He was uncomfortable with others doing things for him. He liked to handle himself. “I can’t ask you to do that.”

Castiel smiled and placed his card into the bill, closing it and placing it onto the edge of the table. The waitress walked by and picked it up. “You didn’t ask. I invited you to lunch, I don’t mind paying. If you prefer it, you can pay for yourself next time. Though, I want you to know that I like paying for dates.”

At the mention of the word, “date” Dean turned red. Sure, they shamelessly flirted and deep down Dean knew that it was a date, but he hadn’t expected for Castiel to just say it outright. He smiled as the waitress dropped off the credit card. Cas put the card back into his wallet and slipped out of the booth. Dean followed. 

As the two of them walked back to Singer’s Auto, their hands brushing as they walked side-by-side, Dean felt like a damn teenage girl. He blushed every time their hands made contact, and he wondered if he should ask for permission to hold Castiel’s hand. Was it too soon? They barely knew each other, but Cas had explicitly states his interest in him. Dean was over thinking this whole thing.

Dean drew up all the courage he could manage and moved his hand closer. His fingertips gently brushed against Castiel’s palm in a silent question. It was a soft, barely-there touch. Out of the corner of his eye, Dean could see Cas look at him, but he kept his eyes forward. He saw a tiny smile grace the other man’s face as he shifted his hand to grasp Dean’s. Dean let out a breath that he didn’t know he was holding and gently squeezed back. 

They stayed like that until they reached the garage. Dean was almost shocked about how normal it felt. How it felt like second nature to hold onto this man. There was a small fear in the back of Dean’s mind that came with holding another man’s hand in public, but nothing happened. Nobody gave them a second glance or a strange look. Dean bit back a smile. 

After reaching their destination, Castiel loosened his grip and pulled out his car keys. Dean unconsciously squeezed his hand. He didn’t want to let go yet. He absurdly wished that they could just walk around a little longer. He had never thought about the appeal of “romantic walks” before Castiel grabbed his hand. The other man looked at him and smiled. 

“I’ll call you tonight.” He said quietly, moving closer to him. Dean nodded. Their faces were absurdly close. Dean could see every individual eyelash on Castiel’s eyes. He was once again overcome with the urge to just lean closer and kiss this man.

Instead, he smiled and finally let go of Castiel’s hand. Castiel smiled again before turning and walking to his car. Dean watched him as he got into that shitty tan Continental and started it. He huffed out a laugh when Castiel turned back to look at him and gave him a thumbs up. Dean kept his eyes on the car as he drove away. He then shook his head and walked back into the garage. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy almost new year! it's wild how fast this year has gone. anyway, my new years resolution is to upload regularly and finish this fanfiction. i hope 2019 is good for all of you :)

Dean’s phone rang as he picked up a box of cereal and tossed it into his shopping cart. He struggled for a second to pull it out of the pocket of his jeans. A slightly bitter feeling pinched at his heart when he saw that it wasn't Castiel. Nonetheless, Dean answered it and turned to push his cart further down the aisle. 

“Hello?”

“Hey, we’re still on for tonight, right?”

Dean laughed. “Yeah, Charlie. I haven’t made new plans in the two hours since we last talked.”

“Okay, I’m just making sure!” Charlie grumbled. “I just got home from work, Mr. Roman’s really on my ass about this new project. Apparently, if this merger isn't successful, the company’s in trouble.”

“I’m at the store right now,” Dean said, grabbing a box of breakfast bars and looking at them for a second before putting them in the cart. “Anything you want me to grab for tonight?”

“Get ice cream-for God’s sake Crookshanks don't fucking do that- and get a good flavor this time. Rocky road tastes like ass.”

“Rocky road is the best. It’s not my fault you have bad taste,” Dean grumbled, walking to the frozen section and grabbing a tub of mint chocolate ice cream. “What did Crookshanks do this time?”

“Asshole is knocking shit off of the counter again. when do you think you'll get home?”

“I’m almost done,” Dean said, staring straight forward as he passed the beer section. “I’ll call you from the car.”

“Okay. Talk to you later.”

“Bye, Red.”

“Peace out.”

Dean hung up the phone and walked to the registers to pay. 

-

Charlie got to Dean’s apartment around 7:30 that night. She let herself in with her key and entered in a whirlwind of red hair and smiles. She practically jumped on Dean and tackled him into a bear hug. Her sweet-smelling hair tickled his nose as he placed a kiss on her head. Charlie’s smile was always contagious and she had him laughing in the first five minutes of being there. 

“What are you making?” Charlie asked, leaning over to look into the pot on the stove. 

“Just some spaghetti. I’m too tired to make anything else.”

“Hey, at least you can cook. I can’t even make toast without burning it. I’m lucky that Dorothy knows how to make stuff.”

“How is Dorothy?” Dean asked. Charlie’s girlfriend was sweet, but the two of them tended to fight a lot. They both had bold personalities and they clashed at every turn. 

“She’s good. We’re in a good place right now. We might move in together,” Charlie said, pulling herself up onto the counter. She took off her hoodie and tossed it onto the small table that Dean had in the corner or the kitchen. “She’s still a little uncomfortable, though.”

“Still?”

“I mean, I guess. She’s still convinced that you’re in love with me.”

Dean coughed out a laugh. “Gross. You’re like my annoying little sister.”

Dorothy and Charlie had been together for a little over a year. Charlie was head over heels the moment she met her. She had eagerly set up a day where Dorothy and Dean could meet. She had said over and over that they were the two most important people in her life. Dorothy was nice enough at first. Over time, though, she became mistrustful of how close Dean and Charlie were. She had accused Charlie of cheating on her with Dean on more than one occasion. After Charlie said again and again that she only liked girls, Dorothy came to the conclusion that since Dean was bisexual, he was incapable of commitment and wanted to be with anything that moved. He tried to ignore her snide biphobic comments, but they still stung a little. 

“It doesn't matter,” Charlie said, snapping Dean back to the present. “She’s getting over it. What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Come on,” Charlie rolled her eyes. “Are you seeing anyone?”

Dean paused for a moment as his mind wandered to Castiel. They had only been on one date. Sure, they were planning another one, but Dean was still convinced that Cas didn't want anything to do with him. He was going to turn the second date down if Castiel hadn't hypnotized him with his beautiful smiles, perfectly messy hair, and sharp jawline. 

“U-uh,” Dean stuttered slightly. “No.”

Apparently, he hesitated for too long, because Charlie raised her eyebrows. “Why did you pause?”

Dean blushed and turned back to the spaghetti sauce that was on the stove. He deems it finished and turned off the stove. “I didn't pause-“

“Yes, you did! You paused! Who is it?” Charlie exclaimed eagerly, practically bouncing where she sat. Her eyes were wide and she looked determined. 

“No one, Charlie. I’m not-“

Dean’s phone started ringing. He gave Charlie one last look before answering it. 

“Hello?”

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel’s voice filled his ear and he suddenly forgot how to breathe. He ignored Charlie, who was mouthing ‘Who is it?’ over and over. 

“Hey, Cas.”

“I hope it’s not a bad time.”

“No, its okay,” Dean said, ducking when Charlie threw a paper ball at him that she had picked up from the counter. “I’m not busy. What’s up?”

“I just wanted to call and ask if Friday at seven is a good time for our date.”

“Yeah,” Dean said, suddenly breathless. His heart hammered in his chest. “Friday’s good.”

“Good,” Castiel’s voice was soft. Dean could hear his smile in the way that he spoke. “If you send me your address, I can pick you up. It will be casual.”

“You sure your car can handle that?” Dean leaned against the counter, grinning. He was fully ignoring Charlie, who was gesturing wildly and mouthing something. 

“Well,” Castiel laughed quietly. “I will have a very skilled mechanic with me. I’m sure that if my car broke down, we could figure it out together.”

“Remind that mechanic to bring his toolkit, then.”

Castiel laughed again. “I’ll try. I should probably go now. My sister is coming to visit me. I’ll see you in a few days.”

“Okay. Can’t wait.”

“Goodbye, Dean. I’m very much looking forward to Friday.”

“Me too, man. See you.”

Dean stared at his phone for a second after Cas hung up before turning to Charlie. 

“Was that your boyfriend?” Charlie demanded.  
“Boy-what? No, Charlie. We’ve been on one date. It’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal? Okay, do you want to know what I saw?” Charlie hopped off of the counter and crossed her arms. Her face was as red as her hair and she looked frustrated. “You were smiling and blushing the whole time he was talking. I’ve only seen you do that when Doctor Sexy is on screen.”

“Yeah, because he’s insanely hot.”

“You were flirting and joking with him, and you scheduled a second date.”

“So?”

“Dean, you never go on second dates.”

“That's not true,” Dean mumbled, fiddling with the wooden spoon that was resting next to the stove.

“Dean.” Charlie kicked his foot so that he would look at her. “You never go on second dates.”

Dean sighed and turned back to the stove. He stirred the spaghetti despite the fact that it was already done. He busied himself for a minute, watching Charlie to see if she would drop it. She didn’t. Her arms were crossed and her jaw was set. After a few minutes of silence, Dean caved. 

“His name is Cas,” Dean mumbled, keeping his eyes trained on the floor. “He’s a doctor and we went to lunch together today. He’s sweet and I really like him. We’re going out again on Friday.”

Charlie’s determined expression broke into a wide smile. “That’s great! What’s his last name? I’m gonna look him up.”

“Charlie, no,” Dean protested. She had already pulled out her phone want was typing furiously. “I don't want you to talk to him and scare him off.”

“Is it Castiel Milton?”

“How did you do that?” Dean demanded, walking over to Charlie and peering over her shoulder. She somehow had his Facebook account pulled up already. His profile picture was of him in his doctor coat, smiling. It looked like it was taken without him knowing. Dean thought he looked amazing.

“How many people in this state do you think are named Cas? It was almost too easy. Aw, look, here’s a picture of him with his sisters.” Charlie shoved the phone in his face. It was a picture of Cas next to two women. The woman with red hair was in a white dress and veil. The other woman had short brown hair and blue eyes. She looked like she could be his twin. Cas had his arms wrapped around both of them. The caption was ‘I can’t believe that my younger sister is actually married. I love you so much, Anna’. The only comment was from Anna Milton, who said ‘I love you too!’.

It was a nice picture. Dean smiled slightly as he looked at it. It was only from a few months before. Cas was wearing a tux with the tie gone and the jacket unbuttoned. It looked like it was taken at the reception. Charlie swiped and another picture popped up. The next picture was of a blond man in a red velvet tux balancing a spoon on his nose. It looked like it was in the same place as the first picture, so Dean assumed that it was also at his sister’s wedding. The caption was ‘He is ridiculous’. There was a comment from the man in the photo. His name was Gabriel Milton, and he commented ‘You’re just boring’. Dean assumed that the man must have been Castiel’s brother. 

Charlie pulled the phone closer to her face and scrolled for a second before saying, “Castiel Emmanuel Milton. He’s from Pontiac, Illinois. He’s 31, works at the Lawrence central Hospital and he’s single.”

“Okay,” Dean said, grabbing Charlie’s phone from her. “That’s enough creeping for one night. Let’s go watch a movie.”

Charlie huffed but didn't argue. Dean gave her phone back to her and handed her a plate from off of the counter. They had a relatively normal night after that. The subject of Castiel didn't come up again. Charlie seemed to have gotten all of the information that she wanted, though Dean knew for a fact that she would continue to cyber-stalk him when she got home. The two of them ate dinner and watched the Fellowship of the Ring. Charlie ate all of his ice cream. Everything felt normal.

After Charlie went home around 10, Dean’s mind kept wandering back to Castiel’s Facebook and his self-doubt kicked in. He seemed to have a full life already. Could Dean even find room for himself in that life?


	6. Chapter 6

The days leading up to their date on Friday went by both terrifyingly fast and painfully slow. The mixed excitement and dread that Dean felt about seeing Castiel again weighed heavily on his mind as he went about his daily life. His mind was constantly wandering to the other man as he worked. He had developed a habit of thinking about Castiel when he did anything. Sometimes he went into a daze while eating at Benny’s restaurant, which would result in Benny snapping him out of it then mercilessly teasing him, saying that he was whipped.

Although they agreed not to see each other until Friday, Dean and Cas fell into an easy routine of talking in the morning and at night. Dean had gotten used to falling asleep with Cas speaking in his ear. It was overwhelming. Dean couldn’t remember the last time someone had made him feel so strongly. If he was being honest, nobody ever had. There was just something about Cas that made him feel like they had known each other for ten years.

Dean’s fear of abandonment caught up to his happy daze when he woke up on Friday morning. He partly wished that he had work that day just so he had something to do. He knew he would spend all day stressing about the date and what he would wear. He felt ridiculous. Dean considered calling Charlie for help, but he knew she would tease him for it.

He ended up spending the whole day stress-cleaning his apartment. It was long overdue for a deep clean. The apartment had been messier than he would have liked for weeks, but he kept putting off cleaning it. Dean wasn’t the neatest person, but he liked to have at least some kind of order. At 5, he was in the middle of wiping down the kitchen counter when the doorbell rang. 

Dean tossed the washcloth into the sink and walked over to the door. His heart stopped when he saw Cas on the other side of the door. Shit. Hadn’t he said 7? Dean hadn’t even showered yet. Cas was wearing a white dress shirt, a loose blue tie, and black slacks. The surprise on Dean’s face must have clear as Castiel smiled warily. 

“I know we agreed on 7,” Cas said, running a hand through his hair. “But I’ve had a horrible day and at the end, I just wanted to see you.”

“It’s fine,” Dean said, taking in Castiel’s disheveled appearance. He suddenly noticed that his blue eyes were red and there were dried tear tracks on his cheeks. “Why don’t you come in? I was just cleaning.”

As Cas walked into his apartment, Dean was suddenly relieved that he had spent all day cleaning it. He sat down on the couch with Cas and leaned close to him. 

“What happened?”

Cas sighed. “I lost a patient today.”

“Oh,” Dean breathed. He looked down at his hands for a second. He wasn’t sure what he should say. “I’m sorry.”

Cas shook his head. He looked like he might cry. Dean wanted to push his hair out of his face and kiss him until that crushed expression was wiped from his face. But he didn’t. Instead, he just sat there and waited until the other man said something. 

When Cas finally spoke, there was a hard edge to his voice. “I shouldn’t have come here. I’m sorry. I should go. I’ll be back at 7 to pick you up.”

He started to stand, but Dean pushed him back down onto the couch. Castiel looked up at him, surprised. 

“Look, man. I have no idea what you’re feeling right now. I’ve never saved anyone’s life or anything like that, but none of this is your fault. You can’t blame yourself because you couldn’t save one person. You’ve done a hell of a lot more good than harm. It’s not your fault that you couldn’t save them.”

Castiel just looked at him. Dean wondered for a moment if he’d crossed some kind of line. He realized that he was still holding the other man down, and he quickly pulled back. Dean was just about to clear his throat and apologize when Cas sighed and shook his head again.

“You’re right. I suppose it's something I’ll never get used to. I really did sign up for this by becoming a doctor. I think I should go home to calm myself down before we go out tonight.”

“We don’t have to do that tonight,” Dean said. When Cas gave him a panicked look, he added quickly, “I have food here. Maybe I can cook something for us and we can just stay here.”

Cas sighed and the tension in his shoulders relaxed. He was obviously relieved. Dean thought it was ridiculous that someone would be so upset at the thought of not seeing him.

“Thank you. While I’ve been looking forward to tonight all week, I was less than thrilled at the prospect of being in public.”

“It’s fine,” Dean said, pushing himself off the couch. “You like burgers, right?”

Cas smiled up at him and nodded. “I love burgers. I had one on our first date, remember?”

Right. Dean hadn’t really paid attention to Castiel’s food that day. He had been too busy panicking about whether they were actually on a date. Dean covered up his embarrassment by holding out a hand to pull the other man off the couch. “Just making sure. This would be over if you didn’t.”

Castiel laughed as he took Dean’s hand. The sound rang out like a bell and Dean’s whole body buzzed with the knowledge that he could make the other man laugh so easily.

“Well, I’m glad I passed your test,” Castiel said, still gripping Dean’s hand. They stood there for a second, staring at each other. Dean cleared his throat and pulled away, letting the other man’s hand fall to his side. Cas watched him for a moment. His heart rate picked up. There was something about Castiel’s relentless stare that made it both the best and worst thing in the world. Dean cleared his throat.

“Come on,” Dean said, jerking his head in the direction of the kitchen. “You can help.”

That was how Dean found himself moving around the kitchen with Castiel as a pleasant distraction next to him. They didn’t talk much, just moved around each other. They ignored the way that both of them stuttered when they brushed hands. At one point, Castiel placed a hand on his shoulder to nudge him out of the way while he walked behind him, and Dean almost sliced his hand open while he was cutting tomatoes. He focused his mind on placing the patties on the pan as much as he could with a freaking Adonis right behind him. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt hands on his waist and a head leaning on his shoulder.

“W-what are you doing?” Dean asked, trying to keep his hands from shaking too hard as he nudged one patty to the side.

“Finish what you’re doing, Dean,” Castiel’s voice was smooth and Dean swallowed nervously. As soon as he placed the pan lid over the cooking burgers, Cas guided his body to that he was at the opposite counter, then turned him so they were facing each other. The man’s face was inches from Dean’s and his hands never left his waist.

“Do you know how much I’ve been thinking about you this past week?” Cas said, moving one hand to brush the backs of his fingers against Dean’s jawline. “I cannot get you out of my mind. I’ve been lying awake the past two nights wondering how a creature as perfect as you even could even exist. You are the most extraordinary man I have ever met, and I can’t believe you wanted to see me again. I’m the luckiest man alive.”

Dean’s heart clenched at Castiel’s words. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew the man was only saying that because he did not understand how broken Dean truly was. He had never seen the real side of Dean. The side that came from a broken home and always felt the need to drink himself blind. The side that dropped out of high school and actively tried to drive everyone away. 

Dean felt the need to set the record straight. To tell Castiel that he was wrong and that he wasn’t the guy who deserved that kind of praise. He didn’t deserve to be on someone’s mind, to keep them up at night. But above this truthful side who didn’t want Castiel to waste his time, there was a selfish part of him that wanted to indulge himself in Castiel’s praise and affection.

As he looked into Castiel’s impossibly blue eyes, Dean finally gave in. With a kind of thrill running through his body, Dean gave in to his emotions and finally kissed him. Dean decided that he would let himself have this happiness, at least until Castiel realized who he really was. It wouldn’t last long, anyway.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> writers block is a fucking bitch but nobody is reading this anyway so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

As the weeks went by, Dean was shocked at how easily Castiel slipped into his life. There was no sudden revelation or change. One day he wasn't there and then the next day he was. It was weird how comfortable he was around the other man. It had taken him months to open up to Charlie, but somehow Cas blew past almost all of his defenses by the third date. There was something about him that made Dean feel so damn comfortable. There was only one problem.

“Is there a reason why you haven't introduced Castiel to your friends yet?”

Dean squirmed in his seat and avoided Mia’s eyes. “I don't know. I guess I’m just nervous.”

“Nervous that your friends won't like him? Or maybe the other way around?” Mia asked, jotting something down in her notebook.

“No, it's not that. He already knows Benny, and I’ve been talking him up to Charlie since the first date. I know he’ll like Charlie because Christ, who doesn’t? She's awesome.”

“Then what is it?”

Dean looked past Mia at the painting behind her. It was a painting of a cloudy beach at sunset. It must have been there as some semblance of calm. To make patients feel peaceful. It really wasn't working.

“He doesn't know about my, uh, problems.”

“Oh,” Mia breathed. “So you think that when he meets your friends you'll have to come clean about everything. Your father, your problems with alcohol, everything in your past.”

Dean laughed dryly, “Yep.”

“Do you think that he’ll like you less because of it?”

“I think it'll send him running.”

Mia sighed and put down her pen. “I know that, with a history like yours, it's difficult to place your trust in another person. And I know that you've been hurt before, but I think you should have a little more faith. In Castiel and in yourself. If he's really that good of a guy, I’m sure he’ll understand. I just don't think that you should hide things from him. It’s not good for your relationship and it takes a toll on your mental health.”

Deep down, Dean knew that she was right. Part of him knew that it was insulting to Cas to assume that he would turn his back so quickly. 

“Dean,” Mia said, pulling him out of his own thoughts. She was smiling gently at him, but she looked sad. “Do you really think that what you have is that fragile?”

Dean swallowed nervously and shook his head. “I don’t want to find out.”

~

When Dean walked into his apartment an hour later, he paced around his living room for a few minutes. He stared at Castiel’s contact on his spine for almost ten minutes, finger hovering over the call button. He had to be sure that this was what he wanted to do. He knew that he didn't have a choice. As much as it hurt, Mia was right. He couldn't hide this. He wouldn't hide from Cas anymore.

Dean held his phone to his ear and closed his eyes as he listened to the dial tone. Part of him hoped that he wouldn't pick up, but after five rings the tone cut out.

“Hello?”

He just stood there for a second, staring into space. His mouth was suddenly dry. It took him a moment to get his mouth to work again.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean sat down on the couch, staring absently at the TV. “I was wondering if you wanted to come over tonight.”

“Of course,” Cas said immediately. Dean ignored the way that his heart skipped a beat. “I get off of work at 7. I can come over after.”

“G-good,” Dean’s leg started bouncing involuntarily. “Thats uh, that's good.”

“Are you okay?” Cas asked. He sounded concerned. “Is something wrong? Do you need me to come over now?”

“No, after work is fine. It’s just uh, we need to talk.”

“Okay,” Cas replied. The concern hadn't left his voice. “I’ll see you then.”

“Okay. Bye.”

“Goodbye.”

As soon as he hung up, Dean put his phone down on the couch next to him and buried his head in his hands. Fuck, that was so not smooth. Cas clearly knew that something was up. He might as well have said ‘I need to tell you something really shitty and we may or may not break up after’.

Mia was right, though. He had to come clean. Lay all the cards on the table. He was going to bear his fucking soul and hope that Cas wouldn't react badly.

Dean glanced at the clock. It was just after 5, giving him less than two hours before Cas came. He wondered if he should even bother cooking dinner for them. There was a very real chance that this was the end of their relationship. This nasty realization wedged a lump in his throat that he couldn't get rid of.

He had two options. He could cook dinner, kiss Cas when he walked in, and pretend that everything was normal. He could try to ignore the looming elephant in the room, then sit Cas down at the end of the night and tell him. Or he could ditch the date idea altogether. Cas already knew that something was wrong. He would see right through Dean’s act. He could sit Cas down as soon as he walked in and tell him everything. Then, when Cas dumps him, he can spend the rest of the night wallowing in his own misery.

God, I wish I had a drink right now, Dean thought before he could stop himself.

Dean sat on his couch and pretended to watch TV while he waited for Cas. He decided not to cook. There was no point. He might as well tell Cas outright and let him leave instead of forcing him to sit through a painfully awkward dinner. His eyes stayed glued to the screen, but his mind was far away, trying to think of what he would say before Cas left his life forever. He tried to imagine every scenario.

Maybe Cas would be nice about it. Maybe he would hold Dean’s hand and say gently that it wasn't him. He would have that kicked puppy look in his stupidly blue eyes. Maybe he would kiss Dean one more time before leaving. He would smile sadly and walk out. Or maybe he wouldn't even try to hide his disgust. Maybe he would wrinkle his nose as he realized that Dean was just some junkie. He would tell Dean how disgusting he was, even though he already knew. Then he would stand up, grab his coat, and leave. 

That was the one constant. Every scenario ended with Cas leaving. Leaving him forever. 

Dean squeezed his eyes shut and choked back a sob. He wouldn't do this. He wasn't going to cry before Cas even got there. How fucking weak and pathetic would that make him look? Sure, he knew how weak he was, but Cas didn’t. He needed to keep his composure. Take the breakup with a shred of dignity. Then, after the door closed and Cas was gone, he would let himself cry. Stare at the couch where he had been sitting. But not yet.

There was a knock on the door. 

Even though he was expecting it, the sound made Dean jump out of his skin. The terrifying reality of it set in. This was happening. It wasn't some daydream or imaginary scenario in his mind. Dean clenched his fist tightly, barely flinching when his nails dug into the skin. The pain grounded him as he stood up to open the door. 

Usually, Cas on his doorstep was a welcome sight. But not this time. This time the sight of him made Dean nauseous because he represented everything he was afraid to lose.

“Hey,” Dean said, forcing himself to smile. He clenched his fist tighter. Cas smiled hesitantly at him as if he was unsure of what to expect. Dean swallowed and leaned forward to kiss him.

Cas reached up to wrap his arms around Dean’s neck. His lips were chapped. Dean’s throat closed up as he wrapped his arms around him. His fist was still balled up tightly. He couldn't help himself as he helplessly clung to the back of Castiel’s shirt. This was it. This was the last time he would get to do this.

After a few seconds, Dean pulled away. He looked at Cas and saw the naked concern in his eyes. Cas reached up and brushed his thumb against his cheek.

“Are you alright?”

Dean cleared his throat and tried to force the knot in his throat to go away. “Yeah.”

He stepped back and let Cas walk in. As he closed the door behind then, he tried to gather his thoughts and composure. 

“Listen, Cas, we need to talk,” Good. Good start. “Do you think we could sit down?” 

Cas nodded. Dean tried not to look into his eyes. A quick glance showed fear, confusion, and worry.

The two of then sat down on Dean’s battered old couch. There was a distance between them, both physical and emotional. Dean kept his eyes trained on the floor, wringing his hands. Finally, he looked up, ready to spring into his breakup speech. He stopped when he made eye contact with Cas. He looked cautious, unsure of what Dean was about to say. He sat in silence, waiting for Dean to speak. 

Out of nowhere, Dean let out a sob. He let his head fall into his hands, covering his face as he choked and sobbed.

“Dean,” Cas sounded alarmed. He immediately closed the distance between them, bringing one hand up to rest on Dean’s shoulder. He cupped Dean’s face with the other hand, whispering ‘it's okay’ over and over again. It only made Dean cry harder. How fucking pathetic was he? He couldn't even get through one conversation with Cas without crying. 

“Dean,” Cas said softly. He pulled Dean’s hands away from his face, gently brushing a few tears away. “Dean, what's wrong?”

Dean shook his head and whimpered pathetically, trying to pull away. Cas wouldn't let him. He tightened his grip on Dean’s shoulder. “Dean, please don't push me away. Tell me whats wrong.”

It took a few strangled breaths before Dean was able to pull himself together enough to string together a few words. Finally, he choked out, “I don’t want you to leave me.”

“I won't leave,” Cas said immediately. Dean almost believed him. “I’m not going to leave you.”

Dean laughed, but it sounded more like a sob. “Yes, you are. You’re gonna leave when you find out who I really am.”

“And who are you?”

“I-I’m broken, Cas. More than you know. I’m too broken for you.”

“You’re not broken-“

“Yes, I am! You don't know the real me, okay? You have no idea.”

“Then give me an idea,”

“Wha- you don't want that.”

“I think I can decide for myself what I want,” Cas said stubbornly. 

Dean was starting to get annoyed. “Why can’t you just let me go?”

“I guess I’m just stubborn like that. Now tell me. Because I’m not going to let you push me away.”

Dean was filled with both affection and anger. Cas raised an eyebrow at him, waiting.

“You’re too good for this.”

The determined look on his face was replaced with confusion. “Too good for what?”

“For me. I shouldn't have let it go this far. I should've broken it off after we went to the diner. Waiting just made it harder. I thought you were gonna leave me eventually but you didn’t. Now it's just so damn hard.”

“Why would I leave you?”

“I thought,” Dean ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. “I thought you were gonna realize how bad I am for you. So I let it keep going. But Mia said-“

“Who is Mia?” Cas bristled. 

“My therapist.” Dean couldn’t help but feel a wave of affection at Cas’s jealousy. “She said I shouldn't be hiding shit from you. And I knew she was right but it was just too fucking hard.”

“What have you been hiding?”

Dean looked at him for a second before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a coin. He handed it to Cas. Cas looked at it for a second before looking back up at him.

“You thought that I would leave you because you used to be an alcoholic?”

Dean didn't say anything. Cas grabbed his hand and squeezed it tight. 

“Dean, I don’t care about that. I don't care.”

“You-you’re not supposed to say that. You're too-“

“Too what?”

“Too good. Too nice. Too perfect. You're some hotshot doctor who went to fancy medical school and lives in a nice house. Who comes from a nice family and makes a ton of money. A guy like you isn't supposed to end up with someone like me.”

“I don’t care what I’m supposed to do,” Cas snapped. “I want you. I want to be with you. Isn't that enough?”

“I’m scared, okay?”

“What are you scared of?”

“That-“ That you'll leave me. That one day you'll wake up and realize that you could do better. “That I’m not good enough for you.”

Cas’s expression softened. “Of course you are.”

Dean sniffed and looked at their hands. “Doesn’t feel like it. I’m just some alcoholic high school dropout with a ton of issues and a shitty apartment. Cas, we can’t go to half the places you suggest for dinner because nine times out of ten I was banned for getting drunk and starting fights.”

Cas held the coin out in front of him and squeezed his hand tighter. “Do you see this? This is the sign that you're getting better. That you're moving past your mistakes. You are growing. And I’m so fucking proud of you. You're a better man than I could ever dream of being.”

Dean shook his head, “Cas-“

“Do you know how much you've changed me? How much of an impact you've had on my life? You've taught me to take care of myself. To let go and let myself have fun. Before you, all I ever did was work. My sisters always said I was like a robot. But you, you changed that. You make me a better person just by being with me. Why on Earth would I let that go?”

Dean stared at him for a second. The raw sincerity in Cas’s eyes filled him with hope. Cas didn't want to leave him. He wasn't going anywhere. He had made that clear. Dean swallowed and reached up to touch Cas’s face.

“Cas,” He breathed. His fingers traced over the lines beside his eyes. “I don’t- is this for real?”

Cas looked like he was going to cry. He let go of Dean’s hand and cupped his face. “Yes. I want you. I’m not going anywhere.”

“After all that, you still don't think I’m broken?”

“Of course not,” Cas whispered. “You’re not broken, Dean. Now, will you stop trying to break up with me?”

Dean laughed and nodded. He closed his eyes as Cas kissed the corner of his mouth. 

“One day,” Cas said after a few seconds. “I want you to see yourself from my eyes. I want you to see how beautiful and amazing you are. How special. I knew from the moment I first saw you that you were special.”

Dean scoffed and opened his eyes. “The first time you saw me I was a drunken idiot who had to go to the ER because I got my ass handed to me outside a bar.”

“And you were the most beautiful drunken idiot I had ever seen,” Cas said, kissing him again. Dean decided not to argue. It would've taken too much energy, and he was already exhausted. Instead, he decided to lean into the kiss. He let it go on for a few seconds before pulling back and letting out an annoyed sigh.

“Shit.”

“What is it?” Cas looked worried again. Dean kissed him again quickly to reassure him. 

“I was gonna cook for you. It was my original plan but I got all in my head about you coming over. I didn't because I thought-“

“That I was going to break up with you?” Cas finished for him. He rolled his eyes when Dean grinned sheepishly at him. “It’s fine. We can just order something.”

To Dean’s dismay, Cas stood up. He started pulling his phone out of his pocket when Dean said, “You’re still gonna stay, right?”

He stopped and leaned down, kissing Dean gently. “Of course. I told you I wouldn't leave.”

“And, uh,” Dean said nervously, looking at Cas. “You could stay the night. If you want to.”

Cas raised his eyebrows. “Are you propositioning me?”

“What? N-no, I just thought-“

“Dean, it's okay. I was kidding. I would love to spend the night here with you. I don't have work tomorrow.” Cas kissed him one more time before pulling his phone out of his pocket. “I’m going to order pizza for us. Do you have a preference?”

Dean shook his head. “I’m good with whatever you want.”

Cas smiled at him and walked into the kitchen. Dean listened as he called the pizza place and ordered their food. He laughed and buried his head in his hands. How the hell did he get so lucky?


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys.   
> thank you so much for your comments on the last chapter. it really means a lot to me.  
> school is almost over, which means im gonna be writing and updating a lot more, which is good.  
> im not in a very good mental state right now. there are things going on in my personal life that are really fucking me up. if i don't update for a while, i promise im not dead. im just taking a little break.  
> if any of you are interested in reaching out to me, my instagram is @beautifulcastiel and my tumblr is @astrodestiel.  
> anyway, i have a lot of plans for this fic. there are gonna be probably 20 chapters total. if you're interested, i also made a playlist on spotify to go with this story. i listen to it while i'm writing. if you want the link, just comment and i can send it to you.  
> thank you for sticking with me and enjoy the chapter :)

Waking up next to Cas was the best feeling in the world. Dean had no idea what heaven would feel like until he had the chance to slowly drift awake with Cas’s arms wrapped around his waist and his chest pressed against his back. Dean shifted gently, trying not to jostle him too much. He turned so that he was facing the other man. Cas was dead asleep. He hadn't shifted at all since the night before.

Dean just laid there for a few minutes, enjoying the view. Cas’s dark hair was shaggy and sticking up in a million different directions. Dean touched the dark shadow that coved his chin and let his hand drift down to his bare chest, feeling the gentle beat of his heart. He kissed his jaw and slowly detangled himself from Cas’s grip. He laughed when Cas unconsciously tried to hold him tighter.

Dean walked quietly into the kitchen and glanced at the clock. It was early, just barely past seven. He was surprised that he was up this early, seeing as they hadn’t gone to sleep until after midnight. He went into the bathroom to brush his teeth quickly and smiled when he saw Cas’s toothbrush next to his. 

Dean went back into the kitchen and shuffled around, making coffee. He half wished he had thought to put on socks. The wooden floor of the kitchen was freezing and he was wearing nothing but a t-shirt and a pair of boxers. The coffeemaker beeped quietly. After pouring coffee into the Batman mug that Charlie gave him for his birthday, Dean jumped up onto the counter.

He sat there for a few minutes, clutching his coffee and trying to warm up. Dean debated on whether to not he should wake Cas up but ultimately decided to just let him do his thing. Neither of them had anything to do that day, and Cas didn't seem like a guy who got a ton of sleep. He thought about calling Charlie and filling her in on the night before, but it was too early.

So Dean sat alone in the kitchen, thinking. For the first time in months, he thought about his father. Usually, thinking about John was off limits for him. It had been almost seven years since his dad’s death, but that didn't make thinking about him any easier. Thinking about John didn't do anything but make him angry and sad. 

Dean barely had any memory of John before the divorce. He knew that he had never really been a good father. Mary was the one who took care of him, he knew that. He knew that because after Mary left John didn't do jack shit. He would either leave Dean alone or drop him at Bobby’s house. 

Dean jumped slightly when the floorboard creaked outside of his bedroom. He looked over and saw Cas standing in the doorway, squinting at him. He was wearing nothing but a pair of Dean’s sweatpants and his hair looked like it had been through a wind tunnel.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Dean grinned.

Cas didn't say anything. He rubbed one eye with the heel of his hand and closed his eyes again. He obviously wasn’t a morning person. After a few seconds, he walked forward. Cas took the mug out of Dean’s hand and placed it on the counter next to him. He then wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist and buried his face in his chest.

“Still tired?” Dean asked, brushing his fingers through Cas’s hair and trying to get it to lay flat.

“Hmph,” Cas grumbled. “The bed’s cold without you.”

Dean laughed. “Sorry about that. I made coffee, though.”

Cas pulled back and kissed the corner of his mouth. “Where are the mugs?”

“Here,” Dean pushed him away so that he could hop down from the counter. He crossed the kitchen and opened the cabinet above the coffeemaker. He picked up a Princess Leia mug and handed it to Cas.

While Cas was getting coffee, Dean decided to get started on breakfast. He pulled out a carton of eggs and a frying pan. He glanced over at Cas, who was leaning against the counter while drinking coffee. He didn't seem to mind the chill of the kitchen, seeing as he still wasn't wearing a shirt. Dean just stood there for a second, breakfast forgotten as he stared at the small tattoo on his lower stomach.

Dean cleared his throat and Cas looked up. He weakly held up the carton and stuttered, “Eggs?”

Cas nodded. Dean turned around and cleared his throat. Once his mind was cleared, he started to cook breakfast. As he moved around the stove, he kept subtly glancing over at Cas. He was looking at Dean with this soft affectionate smile that made him want to cry. He couldn't remember the last time someone looked at him like that. Like he was the most important thing in the world, and there was nothing else that he wanted to see. 

The kitchen was silent as Dean finished cooking the eggs. He turned around to say something when Cas surprised him with a light kiss. Dean made a face and pushed him away lightly.

“Not that I don't like kissing you, but you need to brush your teeth.”

Cas huffed and rolled his eyes. “Forgive me for trying to show you affection.”

“Yeah yeah, grumpy pants. Just go.” He pushed Cas in the direction of the bathroom. 

While Cas was brushing his teeth, Dean decided to busy himself by making bacon. He moved around the kitchen, humming some old Led Zeppelin song that he forgot the name of. He was just flipping the bacon over when Cas announced his presence by placing a hand on Dean’s hip and kissing the back of his neck. Dean grinned and leaned into the touch. 

When the bacon was done, Dean pulled two plates out of the cabinet and began equally dividing the food onto separate plates. He turned around and handed a plate to Cas, kissing him quickly.

“The forks are in the drawer by the sink. Go sit.” Dean said, pointing to the small table in the corner of the kitchen. There were only two chairs in case Charlie came over, but one of them was covered in papers. Cas grabbed two forks out of the drawer and placed his plate down on the table. He grabbed the stack of paperwork off of the chair and placed it onto the counter while Dean was getting water. He sat down in the now cleared chair and waited, watching Dean as he walked over.

Dean put his plate down and slid into the chair beside Cas.

“Waiting for me?” Dean asked, eyeing the plate. He hadn't touched it yet.

“Of course,” Cas said, handing him one of the forks.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Of course you are. You're a freaking gentleman.”

Cas just smiled.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, just eating. It wasn't until they finished that Dean gathered enough confidence to speak.

“I really want you to meet my best friend.”

“Charlie?”

“Yeah. Figure if this is gonna become a long term thing you guys should at least know each other.”

“A long term thing?”

“Oh,” Dean blushed. “Yeah, uh, I mean I know we haven't really talked about, you know, this. But-“

Cas spared him from any more stuttering by cutting him off. “Dean, I would love nothing more than for this to be a ‘long term thing’.” 

Dean laughed at the way he used awkward finger quotes.

“However, I think we should use a different term than ‘thing’. How does boyfriends sound?”

Dean’s heart fluttered. “Sounds good.”

Cas smiled at him. “I would love to meet Charlie as your boyfriend.”

Dean didn't even try to refrain himself from practically diving over the table and kissing his boyfriend eagerly. Cas didn't seem to mind.

~

Dean decided not to call Charlie until around noon. He figured that she had to be awake by then. Charlie wasn't the kind of person to sleep in all day. She was more of a ‘let's get up and make this day our bitch’ kind of person. She was pretty much the opposite of Dean, who preferred to lay around on his days off.

So far, it seemed like Cas operated the same way. Of course, he had a good reason to lay around. Being a doctor was exhausting. From what Dean could tell, he was pretty much running on four hours of sleep every day. He always seemed to be sleep deprived. So when he did go to sleep, he crashed hard. On the rare occasions that he had a day off, all he wanted to do was lay around.

Dean enjoyed that, though. The two of them just laid down on the couch together after breakfast. The TV was on, playing some morning show where they interviewed celebrities and discussed the latest Kardashian gossip. Cas was watching the show with a mildly amused look on his face. He was laying on his back across the couch and Dean was laying on top of him. His body was tucked between Cas’s legs and his head was resting on his chest.

“I don’t understand why they still give this family attention if they dislike them so much,” Cas said while one of the hosts ranted about hair extensions. He ran his hand through Dean’s hair, earning a soft hum.

“People love to hate-watch, I guess,” Dean said. He propped himself up with both arms on either side of Cas’s waist. He kissed his boyfriend quickly and pulled himself off of the couch.

Cas made a small displeased noise. “Where are you going?”

“I gotta call Charlie to see if she wants to come over tonight.”

Cas huffed. “Hurry up. You're my blanket.”

Dean snorted and grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch. He tossed it over Cas before walking into the bedroom.

“It’s not the same!” Cas called to him. Dean rolled his eyes and walked over to the nightstand to grab his phone from where it was charging. He didn't have any new notifications other than a reminder of the appointment with Mia the next week. He swiped the notification away and tapped on Charlie’s contact. She picked up after the third ring.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty!” She chirped. She sounded slightly out of breath. Dean assumed that she was at the gym since she liked to work out on Saturday mornings. “Did you just wake up?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “No. Actually, we’ve been up since 8.”

“We?” Charlie gasped. “Your boyfriend slept over?”

“Yeah, he did.”

“Wait, you're not even gonna deny that he's your boyfriend?” She sounded surprised.

“Nope. He asked me this morning. God, Charlie, I-“ Dean laughed. “I’m so fucking happy right now. I don’t remember the last time I felt like this.”

“You deserve to be happy, Dean. I keep telling you. You're a good person. You deserve this. So when do I get to meet him?”

“You free tonight?”

“Seriously? Hell yeah! What time?”

“How about 6?”

“Awesome. I’ll be there. Are you gonna cook or are we gonna go to Benny’s? Benny has met him, right?”

“Yeah. They already knew each other. They were roommates in college.”

“Wow. Small world. So your place?”

“Yeah. I gotta go to the store. I’ll see you tonight, though.”

“Okay, I’ll see you. Love you!”

“I love you too, Charlie.”

Dean hung up and put his phone back down on the nightstand. As tempting as it was to go lay on the couch again, he knew that he really had to go to the store.

“Hey, Cas?” He called into the living room.

“Yes?” Cas walked into his room.

“Charlie’s coming over for dinner tonight. I gotta go to the store. You can stay here if you want.” Dean said as he reached into his dresser and pulled out a pair of jeans.

“I’ll come with you,” Cas said. He looked down. “As long as you lend me some clothes. I would rather not wear the same clothes two days in a row, and as much as I like your pants, I don't want to go to the store like this either.”

“Sure thing,” Dean said, tossing a pair of jeans at him. “We can stop at your house so you can get a change of clothes for tonight.”

Cas smiled and pulled on a gray t-shirt that Dean had handed to him. “Thank you.”

~

They finished up at the store around 2, and they had enough time to go to Cas’s house on the way home. Cas lived in a nice neighborhood about ten minutes away from Dean’s apartment. The house was small compared to the big family homes around him, but it was still way bigger than Dean’s tiny one bedroom apartment.

Cas lead him through the front door and left him in the front hallway while he went to change. Dean looked around, feeling incredibly self-conscious. He wandered into the kitchen, which was bigger than his bedroom. From the kitchen, he could see the living room. As he looked around, his insecurities were replaced with confusion about why the place was so damn empty.

There was a couch and a TV in the living room, but that was it. No decorations. One peek into the cabinets and fridge in the kitchen showed that he had nothing but Wheat Thins and coffee creamer. It looked like something out of Ikea. Like a display house. There were no personalizations anywhere in the house, except for a picture of Cas and his siblings at his sister’s wedding. 

Cas came back down the hallway, wearing a white button-up shirt and jeans, the clothes he had borrowed from Dean folded neatly in his hand. He didn't say anything. He just watched Dean with his head slightly tilted.

“Are you wondering why my house is so plain?” 

Dean jumped and blushed. “I, uh-“

“It’s fine. My sister Hannah wondered the same thing when she came to visit last week.” He placed the clothes down on the counter and looked around, looking mildly frustrated. “I only moved here in June. My lease ran out at my apartment, and I made the foolish decision of asking my brother Michael for help looking for a new place. I wanted another apartment, but he saw this place when we were driving into the city. He dragged me to look at it. He said that now that I’m a doctor I should have a more ‘respectable’ home. I tried to tell him that I don't need a nice place. I barely spend time at home as it is. And I tried to tell him that as a single man in his thirties, I really don't need three bedrooms. He kept insisting, though. Eventually, I got tired of his nagging and just gave in. I bought it and moved in the next week.”

“Your brother kinda sounds like a douchebag,” Dean said without thinking. Cas laughed.

“He’s… A handful. I know that he means well. He wants what's best for me, but he has a hard time hearing the word ‘no’. As the youngest of six, I suppose I’m just used to being told what to do.”

“You’re the youngest of six?”

“Well, technically the youngest. My twin sister, Hannah, was born five minutes before me. She holds it over my head.”

“Jesus,” Dean shook his head. “I mean, I have a brother, but I never knew him. When my parents got divorced, my mom took him to live with her in California. I was five, and he was one. So we never even knew each other.”

“She just left you?”

Dean nodded. “I mean, I’ve come to terms with it at this point. But I do miss him. His name’s Sam.”

Cas just looked at him. “I… I had no idea. No wonder you were so paranoid about me leaving. It wasn't personal. To be left like that, by your mother at such a young age… Of course it would leave you with abandonment issues.”

Dean smiled weakly. “Yeah. I was still kinda shitty, though. I should've had more faith in you.”

Cas shook his head. “It's alright. I understand. You must have it wired into your brain that people would leave you. Are you… are you close with your father?”

“No. He died when I was 19. He was, uh, not great. Pretty much made me take care of myself.”

Cas looked pained for a second before stepping forward. “I am not like them. I know you may not believe it yet, but I will not leave you. You don't need to worry with me.”

“Cas, you don't know-“

“Yes, I do. I know that I’m not going to leave you. I have no idea where this relationship will go, or if it will last. But I do know that I will not leave you. Maybe we won't work out romantically, but I can promise that I will not abandon you like your mother.”

Dean looked at him for a second before nodding. “Okay,” He whispered. “I believe you.”

Cas nodded. He stepped closer and kissed Dean on the cheek. “I want you to trust me.”

Dean grabbed his hand and looked at him. “I do.”

“Good,” Cas whispered. He pulled back and grabbed the clothes off of the counter. “We should go back soon. I’m sure that you don't want the food you bought to go bad in the car.”

Dean cleared his throat and nodded. He let go of Cas’s hand and walked back towards the door. He went ahead and got into the Impala while he waited for him to lock the door. He kept his eyes trained on Cas’s shitty tan car in the driveway. 

The passenger door opened and Cas slid into the car next to him. 

“Are you okay?” Cas asked, looking concerned. 

Dean looked over at him. He looked at him for a second before smiling. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

Cas nodded, not looking entirely convinced. Dean leaned forward and kissed him. It lasted for a few seconds before Dean pulled away. 

“I’m serious. I’m okay,” Dean said when Cas’s facial expression didn't change. He nodded, just studying him.

“I believe you. I just wish there was something I could do.”

“Look, this shit with my dad, and with mom and Sammy, I’ve accepted it. It happened so long ago.”

“Have you ever tried to contact Sam? Or your mother?”

“No. Look, they wouldn't want to see me.”

“I find that hard to believe. You're kind and generous. You're affectionate and you love your friends. You are a good person.”

“When you Google my name, do you know what comes up?”

Cas shook his head. 

“Fucking mugshots. Records of fines and court-mandated therapy. They’d take one look at that shit and realize they were right to leave me behind.”

“So you made a mistake. Dean, that stuff doesn't matter. You can’t let it define you. You are more than your past, and you are a good person. You can try to convince yourself otherwise, but it is not true. And if they let those things define you, then you don't need them. The people who care about you know that you're better than that.”

Dean looked back over at the Continental. 

“Dean,” Cas grabbed his shoulder. “I know that you don't believe it yet, but you will. I want to make you understand that you are a good person and you deserve happiness. You don't have to believe me now, but I will not stop telling you. Not until you believe it yourself.”

Dean looked back over at him and nodded. “Okay.”

Cas didn't say anything. After a second he leaned forward and pulled Dean into a hug. It was a little awkward since they were two grown men in the front seat of a car, but they made it work. After they pulled back, Dean cleared his throat and started the car. 

“We need to go. I have to cook.”

Cas nodded but didn't say anything. The air was a little less tense between them after that. 

~

Charlie arrived at Dean’s apartment a few minutes after 6. She hugged Dean quickly and practically ran into the living room. When she saw Cas, she grinned. He stood up from the couch when she came in.

“I’m Charlie.”

Cas smiled. Dean could tell that he was nervous. “I’m Cas. It’s nice to meet you.”

Without any further prompting, Charlie walked forward and threw her arms around his neck. Cas just stood there awkwardly for a few seconds with his arms at his side. Then he slowly patted her on the back. Dean snorted. 

“Should’ve warned you. She’s a hugger.”

Cas smiled at him over Charlie’s head. “That’s alright.”

After a few seconds, she pulled away and smiled sheepishly. “Sorry. I’m just excited to finally meet you. Dean’s a little private about his love life.”

Dean left them to talk while he went back into the kitchen. Charlie had requested that he make a lasagna. By the time he came back in, they were both sitting on the couch. Dean settled down next to Cas, trying to pretend like he wasn't blushing when Cas wrapped an arm around his waist. Charlie just watched them with a smile. 

“When did the two of you meet?” Cas asked.

“We’ve been friends since high school,” Charlie said, grinning at Dean. “He didn't talk to me at first because he was Mr. Brooding cool guy.”

Dean snorted. “Yeah, and you wouldn't shut up. I only started talking to you because I was hoping that it would cool you down.”

“It didn’t.”

“I’m glad. I can't imagine my life without you.”

Charlie smiled. The timer went off in the kitchen and Dean stood up to get the food out of the oven as Charlie started telling Cas about her girlfriend Dorothy. Just as he placed the pan on top of the stove, there was a knock on the door. He glanced into the living room. Charlie and Cas had both looked up, confused. 

“We expecting anyone?” Dean asked. “Did you invite Dorothy?”

Charlie shook her head. Dean just shrugged and walked over to the door. It was probably just someone who was lost or needed directions. 

Dean pulled the door open. There was a young guy standing at the door, probably around 20. He had long shaggy hair that almost reached his shoulders. Dean didn't recognize him, but there was something about him that was weirdly familiar. 

“Can I help you?” Dean asked, mostly to cut through the weird and tense vibe the guy was putting off. 

“Yeah,” The guy said, hazel eyes darting from Dean over to Charlie and Cas, who had gotten up and were awkwardly hovering behind him. “Are you Dean Winchester?”

Dean nodded. He couldn't shake the feeling that he knew this guy. 

“You don't know me,” He said nervously. He was looking at Dean almost expectantly. Like he thought Dean might recognize him. “I mean- you probably don't remember. I have no idea if you even know about me.”

When Dean stayed silent, he continued. 

“I live in California with my mom. And I didn't know anything until last week when I found some old boxes. I made her tell me everything and then I looked you up online and found your Facebook. I went to Bobby’s earlier today, but he said you had the day off and gave me your address. I spent most of the day trying to build up the courage to come here.”

Dean’s heart was pounding harder with each word. He stood there listening to the guy’s nervous rambling, but he didn't know what to say. Of course, deep down he knew who it was when he opened the door, but he refused to believe it. There was no way he had traveled all this was to see Dean.

“I-I’m Sam,” He said, looking at Dean hesitantly. “Sam Campbell. I’m your brother.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey y'all! my last day of school is on friday and i'm pretty much done! i'll be updating more regularly now. as you might have guessed, this chapter is gonna be focused on sam and his pov. enjoy :)

The living room was silent. They had invited Sam in, but Dean still hadn't said anything. He went quietly when Cas placed a hand on his back and guided him out from the doorway. He barely nodded when Charlie asked him if he was okay. 

Sam and Dean were sitting on opposite sides of the couch. There were only about two feet between them, but it felt like miles. Sam kept trying to catch his eye, to get him to say something, but Dean just stared straight forward. 

Charlie didn't seem to know what to do with herself. She started out standing behind the couch, then moved to stand beside Dean, then finally moved to stand by Sam so that she could see Dean’s expression. Cas hadn't moved from his position behind Dean with a hand on his shoulder. He was stiff and squinted at Sam in obvious suspicion. 

Charlie moved again to stand beside Cas. She stood on his tiptoes and whispered something in his ear. He nodded. 

“We should let you talk,” Charlie announced. “I’ll give Cas a ride home. We can rain check dinner.”

Cas walked around the couch so he could look at Dean. He lifted Dean’s chin with his hand. 

“Are you going to be alright without us here?”

Dean nodded. 

Cas leaned forward and kissed him gently. “Call me tonight.”

“Okay,” Dean said. His voice was hoarse. He tried to smile when Charlie squeezed his shoulder and kissed him on the cheek. He watched silently as the two of them turned and left the apartment. He kind of wanted them to stay, just to have some familiar faces around, but he knew he had to do this alone.

“So,” Dean glanced over at Sam, who looked just as nervous and uncomfortable as he felt. Some things hadn't changed about him. Of course, Sam wasn't a baby anymore, but his eyes were the same. His hair was still long, and his dimple was exactly where Dean remembered it. “You didn't know about me?”

“No,” Sam said, messing with the piece of paper that had Dean’s address on it. “I guess I always had this feeling that I was missing something. Missing someone. Do you remember me?”

Dean laughed and buried his face in his hands. “Remember? How could I forget? You were my baby brother. There wasn't a day that went by that I didn't think about you. I guess I never reached out because, I dunno. I guess I knew you wouldn't remember me. Thought it was better to let you live your life.”

Sam looked like he was going to cry. “Dean, I-“

“It's fine, Sammy,” Dean looked back up at him. The nickname just slipped out. “Really. I can’t expect you to remember being two.”

Sam stayed quiet for a second. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft. “Mom never told me. Whenever I asked her about my dad, she just said he left when I was a baby, and we moved to California to be closer to her parents so they could help out. I never really pushed it. She always talked like it was a painful memory to think about. Then last week I was at her house and she sent me into her room to look for something. I found this big box in her closet.”

“What was in it?”

“Pictures. And videos. They were all about you.”

~

“What the hell?” Sam mumbled. He pulled the box out into the room. It was a giant cardboard moving box. On the side, it just said 'DEAN' in big block letters. He pulled the box open and glanced inside. It was full of photo albums and VHS tapes. Sam reached over and pulled out the nearest photo album. He dusted off the worn black leather and saw that the year 1992 was stamped into the corner in gold letters. The first picture inside was Mary in a hospital bed, holding a baby. Sam furrowed his eyebrows. He was born in 1996. 

Sam flipped the pages until there was a clear picture of the baby. There was a picture of the baby laying on his back in a little cowboy onesie. He recognized Mary’s handwriting beside the picture. It said ‘Dean, six months’. He looked closely at the baby. He had bright green eyes and a tuft of blond hair on his head. 

He flipped through the whole book. They were all chronicling this little boy’s growth. It ended on Christmas Day, 1992. He quickly dug through the box and found an identical photo album with 1993 stamped on the front. He opened it and saw a picture of Mary holding the baby with a man beside her. He had scruffy brown hair and a beard. Sam pulled the picture out of its protective film and flipped it over. On the back, Mary wrote ‘January 24th, 1993. John finally took the day off to celebrate Dean’s first birthday. Thank you for finally being a father’. 

Sam closed the album before even looking through it and finally found the album labeled 1996. He opened it and flipped through the pages to May. There was another picture of Mary in a hospital bed, this time with a little boy next to her as she held a baby. Sam recognized Dean, this time four years old. He turned the page and saw a picture of him laying in his crib, with Dean beside him. They were both asleep, and the little boy had curled his body around the baby Sam. He pulled the picture out of the film and flipped it over. 

‘June 14th, 1996. Dean has started to crawl into Sammy’s crib when I’m not looking. I asked him yesterday why he does it and he said: “I have to protect Sammy from the monster under my bed.” He’s such a sweet big brother.’

Sam turned the photo over again and stared at it for what felt like hours. Finally, he stood up on shaking legs, keeping his eyes on the picture of him and… His brother. He walked into the kitchen where his mother was typing something on her laptop. 

“Mom?”

“What is it, sweetie?” Mary asked without looking up.

“Who’s Dean?”

Sam looked up at his mother just in time to see the color drain from her face. She stared at him. “What?”

“I found the box. In your closet.” Sam put the picture down on the table in front of her. “I saw the albums. Who is Dean?”

Mary reached over and picked up the picture. There was a ghost of a smile on her face as she looked at the two little boys sleeping peacefully. She looked back up at her son. 

“Dean is your older brother.”

Sam looked at her for a minute. She looked sad. “What happened to him?”

Mary cleared her throat. “Nothing. He lives in Kansas.”

Sam stared at her. What? If nothing happened to him, why wasn't he with them? Why was he in Kansas? Why didn't Sam know him? Mary watched him, waiting for his reaction. She must have seen the gears turning in his head. 

“Sit down, Sammy. I’ll tell you everything.”

And she did. She explained how she got married way too young to a man she barely knew. Sam’s father.

“His name was John Winchester.”

“Was?”

Mary nodded. “He died a few years ago. I heard about it from a friend. I was 20, young and stupid. John was a few years older than me and he just mesmerized me. I was in Kansas with my dad for his work. I met John outside of a diner and eventually stayed in Lawrence with him. We got married two months into dating.”

“Two months?” Sam asked disbelievingly. His mother was one of the most rational people he knew. She was always so methodical, and always urged him to think through every decision. 

“I told you. I was young and stupid. But, the main reason we got married was because I was already pregnant. I didn't realize until your brother was born that John wasn't wired to be a father. He was barely fit to be a husband. He wasn't even there when Dean was born. I would have left, but I had nowhere to go. I was too stubborn to ask my parents for help and admit that I was wrong, and I had cut ties with all my friends when I moved to Kansas. So I stayed, and I tried to make it work. And I’m so glad that I did because you never would have been born if I left while Dean was a baby.”

“So what happened?”

“I realized after you were born that I couldn't stay with John. Things were getting worse between us. We couldn't interact without fighting. I couldn't raise you in that environment, Sammy.”

“What happened?”

Mary squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath. “I- I made the worst decision of my life. There isn't a day where I don't regret it.”

Sam watched her, waiting. 

“I left him, Sam. during the divorce, John demanded custody of Dean. He said that he would drag out the divorce if I didn't give it to him. I barely had enough money to hire a divorce lawyer, so I-“

“-Left him.” Sam finished. 

Mary nodded, tears in her eyes. “I was going to go back for him. I just wanted you to have a better life, Sam.”

“But you didn’t. You were planning to go back for him. Why didn't you go back for him?”

“I worked hard for three years to get enough money to challenge John’s custody of him. I went back to Kansas when Dean was seven. I tried to talk to John, but he told me,” Mary cleared her throat. “He told me that Dean hated me. That he told Dean I was coming to see him, and Dean didn't want to see me.”

“And you believed him?”

“I realized that he was better off without me. I couldn't show up and change his whole world. He would hate me even more than he did before. He was better off staying in Kansas.”

“So you didn't want him?”

“What? No, of course, I wanted him!”

“Right, you just didn't want to own up to your mistakes.” Sam spat, anger building. “You couldn't face the consequences.”

“Sam!” Mary looked shocked at his harsh words.

Sam shook his head and stood up. “I’m not doing this.”

He snatched the picture back up from the table and stormed back into Mary’s room. Without another word, he picked the box up and carried it out the door. He heard his mother call after him one last time before slamming the door behind him. He didn't respond. 

~

“That's bullshit, by the way,” Dean spoke for the first time in twenty minutes. “I wasn't better off without her. I’ve been taking care of myself since I was six. My dad was a piece of shit. He only wanted custody of me to fuck with her. And he never told me that she was coming to visit me. I never said that I hated her.”

Sam nodded. “That’s what I figured. I can’t believe she actually believed him.”

“What happened when you left?”

~

Sam didn't notice where he was going until he found himself on the doorstep to his house ten minutes later. He stopped for a second, breathing heavily. He set the box down on the floor and touched his face. He hadn't realized that he was crying. Clearing his throat, Sam reached into his pocket and pulled out his house key. The door swung open. He picked up the box again and carried it inside. 

He had barely made it into the living room when his girlfriend stood up from the kitchen table and stormed over to him. 

“Sam, what the hell? Your mom just called me in tears saying that you yelled at her and stormed out. Why haven't you been answering your phone?” Jessica demanded, her arms crossed. 

Sam didn't say anything. He walked into the kitchen and set the box down on the table. 

“What is that?” Jess asked. Some of the anger had faded from her eyes and was instead replaced with concern. “Sam? Are you okay?”

Sam looked at her for a second before reaching into the box and pulling out the picture of him and Dean from where it was resting on top of the albums. He handed the picture to Jess. She looked at it for a second.

“What is this?” She asked, looking back up at him. 

“Turn it over,” Sam said hoarsely. He watched as Jess flipped the picture over and read the back. Her lips moved as she read Mary’s writing. 

“Brother…” She mumbled. “You have a brother? I thought you were an only child.”

“So did I. That's why I stormed out. I found this box and she told me that I have an older brother who lives in Kansas. When she divorced our dad she gave him custody. She abandoned him.”

Jess put the picture down on the table and threw her arms around his neck. Sam leaned down and buried his face in her blonde hair. He finally stopped holding back and let himself cry. He let himself be upset over how unfair it was that they were separated. That he never knew his brother. Even through all of the pain, he felt relieved. His whole life something felt off. Someone was missing. He just never realized that it wasn't his father that he was missing. It was his brother.

Once he calmed down, Jess helped him dig through the rest of the box and look at all of the pictures of his brother. Eventually, she ever helped him dig an old VHS player out of a box in the back of the hall closet and hook it up to the TV. She grabbed one VHS tape that was labeled ‘Christmas 1996’.

When they put it in the screen was fuzzy for a second before starting up. The video started with a baby Sam laying on his back on a blanket. He was giggling and wearing a little onesie that said ‘Santa’s Little Helper’. The volume was low, but Sam could hear Mary cooing at him from behind the camera. 

Eventually, the camera shifted and a little boy came into the frame. He plopped down on the floor beside Sam and grabbed him under the armpits to help him sit up. 

“Dean,” Mary said softly. “Are you excited to spend Christmas with your baby brother?”

Dean nodded, smiling. He drew his hands back from where he was gripping Sam but kept them hovering close. He was smiling encouragingly at the baby. The baby kept his eyes trained on his brother and started tipping backward. Dean’s hands shot out to catch him before he hit the ground. Startled by the sudden movement, Sam’s face scrunched up and he started to cry.

“It’s okay, Sammy,” Dean said, scooting forward and wrapping his arms around the baby. “I got you.”

Jess hit pause on the remote and glanced over at Sam. He was frozen, staring at the screen. Silent tears had made their way down his face without her noticing. 

“Sam…” She whispered. 

Sam shook his head and grabbed her by the waist. He buried his face in her neck and held her tight. Jess ran her hands through his hair and just shushed him quietly. She looked back over at the TV and fought back a bitter feeling that was rising in her throat. She had to stop herself from getting up right there and storming over to Mary’s house to give her a piece of her mind. As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t cry. Sam needed her to be strong. She had to be there for him. 

It took her almost an hour to calm Sam down to a state of almost okay. He was still hiccuping slightly and his eyes were red, but he was able to look at the screen again without dissolving into tears. Jess had moved him onto the couch and had him resting his face on her shoulder as she gently pet his hair. 

“Maybe you could try to get in contact with him,” Jess said softly. “Make up for lost time.”

Sam shot up, suddenly lighting up at the suggestion. He jumped off the couch and sprinted into their room for his laptop. 

“Sam,” She called weakly after him. She really needed him to stay in one place so that she could comfort him properly. 

“No, Jess,” Sam said excitedly, sitting back down on the couch with his laptop in his hand. “I can find him. I will find him. I have it talk to him.”

Jess sighed and scooted closer to him so that she could see the screen. She knew that it was best to support him. Sam was a research machine. When he was looking for something, he refused to stop until he found what he was looking for. It was one of the reasons he would make an amazing lawyer someday. 

“What's his last name?”

“Winchester, I think. Mom said that my dad’s name was John Winchester. Dean would have the same last name as him, right?”

Sam went to Facebook and searched for Dean Winchester. A bunch of profiles popped up of different guys. He scrolled for a few seconds before shaking his head and going back up to the search bar. He typed Kansas after Dean’s name and hit search again. All they had to go off of was a bunch of old baby pictures. Finally, one profile picture stuck out to Jess. The picture was of a man with light brown hair and freckled skin next to a woman with red hair. His bright green eyes were sparkling in the sun. She pointed it out to Sam and he opened the profile in a new tab. 

Looking through the profile, everything fell into place. Dean Winchester. 26 years old. Lives in Lawrence, Kansas. Sam looked through the photo gallery. The more she looked at him, the more she realized that he looked like Sam. They had the same smile. 

Jess looked over at Sam. His eyes were glued to the employment detail. Singer’s Garage. He clicked on it and a page came up for the auto shop were Dean worked. There was an address.

“You’re going, aren't you?”

Sam looked at her. He looked apologetic, but something looked settled in his eyes. Determined. She knew she wouldn't be able to change his mind. 

“I have to, Jess,” Sam sounded pleading. He wanted her approval. “This is my brother. I need to meet him.”

She smiled and tucked his hair behind his ear. “I know. It’s okay.”

He sighed and leaned into her touch. He kissed her quickly and pulled his laptop closer. She watched him as he started pulling up tabs looking at flights to Kansas.

~

“Dean, I missed you so much,” Sam said, staring at his brother. “I didn't realize it, but I’ve missed you my entire life.”

Dean looked down at his hands. Hearing about the way that his mother just gave up on him felt like a punch to the gut. Of course, he always knew that she had. But to hear it out loud? 

He looked over at his little brother. Sam was here. He was practically begging to be a part of Dean’s life. It was everything that he never let himself dream of. 

Dean stood up. Sam looked up at him apprehensively as he walked over to the other side of the couch and sat down next to him. He wrapped his arms around his little brother’s shoulders. Sam hugged him back, holding tight. Like he thought Dean would disappear if he let go. 

Dean closed his eyes and let himself feel. Feel the loss of Sam and his mom. But this was different. Different from all the other times he thought about the life he’d lost. Because this time Sam was here. Sam was next to him, hugging him like Dean was all he had. 

“I missed you too,” Dean said, squeezing his eyes shut. He heard Sam let out a small sob. “It’s okay, Sammy. I got you.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey! sorry it took me so long to update again. i've been sitting on this chapter for a couple of weeks, but i was never really sold on how it ends. but i decided to say fuck it and upload it anyway. thank you for being patient :)

Sam left that night around 8. He told Dean he already had a room at a motel nearby and he was leaving for California in three days. 

As soon as he left, Dean pulled out his phone and called Cas.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Cas.”

“Are you alright?” Cas sounded anxious. 

“I’m fine,” Dean hesitated for a second. “I’m sorry about all of this.”

“Don’t apologize. You have nothing to apologize for.”

“Really? Because I’m pretty sure that all I’ve done for the past two days is dump emotional shit on you and expect you to deal with it.”

“Don’t downplay the things you're going through. You have a lot of trust issues, and the stress of letting me in on top of meeting your brother can’t be easy. This has been a very emotional week for you.”

Dean laughed. “It’s a little more drama than you signed up for.”

Cas sighed. “Dean, I signed up to be with you. That includes whatever ‘emotional shit’ you come with. I need you to understand that you’re never too much.”

“Cas,” Dean mumbled, picking at a loose thread on his jeans. 

“I need you to know that you are everything I’ve ever wanted. And when you joke about how you’re useless, or you’re too much to deal with, it hurts me. I never want you to think that you are any less than amazing.”

“Sorry. I’ll try to stop.”

“All I want is for you to realize that you’re enough.”

Dean cleared his throat. “Are you working tomorrow?”

“Yes, unfortunately. I don't have another day off until next Tuesday.”

“Jesus. They really overwork you.”

“Well, I am a doctor. I knew it would be hard work before I started.” Even as he tried to dismiss it, Cas sounded exhausted. “What about you?”

“I’m working too.”

“When do you think we’ll be able to see each other again?”

“Depends on how late you have to work this week. We could probably have dinner or something.”

“I’ll check my schedule. How did things go with Sam?”

Dean sighed. “Good, I guess. It was kinda weird.”

“Well, I imagine it would be after not seeing each other for 20 years. How long will he be in town?”

“Three days. He’s going back to California on Friday.”

“And how are you feeling?”

“I don’t know.” Dean ran a hand through his hair. “Of course I’m happy to see him. I never stopped missing him. I guess I just never let myself hope he would want to meet me.”

“But he did,” Cas said softly. “He’s here now. He clearly wants to have contact with you and be in your life. Are you going to have a relationship with him?”

“Yeah,” Dean said. “I think so.”

“That’s good,” Cas said encouragingly. “Are you going to see him again before he leaves?”

“Yeah. We’re gonna have dinner tomorrow night. Try to have an actual conversation with each other without crying. Do you want to come?”

“Are you saying that because you actually want me there or are you saying it because you feel guilty about tonight?”

“I mean, I did kinda rip you off tonight. You and Charlie didn't even have time to talk.”

“We actually did. When we left your house we went to Benny’s. I enjoy her company. I think she felt the same way.”

“Good. I’m glad you guys get along.”

“As am I. But you didn't answer my question. Would you feel more comfortable talking to Sam if I was there? I don’t want you to feel like you’re obligated to invite me because you have misplaced guilt.”

“I mean, I do kinda want to have some alone time with him.”

“Then I won’t go.”

“Sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for. You want to spend time alone with your brother. That’s alright.”

“I do want to see you this week. I don't think I can wait until next Tuesday. I’ll miss you too much.”

“Can’t stand not seeing me?” Cas said teasingly.

“Not just that. You’re my impulse control. I might do something stupid and wind up in the hospital.”

“Well, you don't have to get injured in order to spend time with me. I never want to see you in a hospital bed again. It’s extremely inappropriate for me to date a patient.”

“Then you better come see me at some point.”

“You are impossible,” Cas mumbled. “All joking aside, of course I want to see you. I’ll let you know when I get off work.”

“Good. Now I really wanna go to bed. I’ve done more crying in the past two days than I have in my entire life.”

“Of course. Get some rest. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Cool. I’ll text you tomorrow. I lo-“ Dean cut himself off. “I’ll see you later.”

“Alright,” There was a weird note in Cas’s voice. “Goodnight.”

“Night,” Dean said quickly. He hung up and dropped his phone on the floor like it was made of fire. Where the fuck did that come from? 

“Why did you fucking say that, you idiot?” Dean hissed. He glared down at his phone like it had forced the words out of him. The phone just sat there innocently. 

Seriously? It was only November. They met in July and had only been together since August. They’d barely been together for three months, but Dean was suddenly ready to jump in with that? How pathetically repressed was he?

To be fair, three months was a long time to Dean. He rarely dated. Before Cas, his longest relationship was a month in sophomore year with Cassie Robinson. Even then, they hadn’t gotten anywhere near serious.

Since that relationship, his flings rarely lasted more than a week. He’d had a string of girls and guys from around Lawrence who pursued him, and he entertained their feelings for a little while before moving on. Mostly it was about sex. He got what he wanted, and moved on. They’d all call him a few cuss words and go cry to their friends. Then they would move on too. He got the reputation of a douchebag on top of being a violent drunk.

They all meant something to him, though, despite what they thought. He never forgot a face. 

But Dean Winchester didn't do love. Not romantic love, at least. He loved Charlie and Benny. Part of him had never stopped loving Sam and his mother. He loved Bobby, not that he would ever admit it to the old grump. Hell, he still loved his dad, despite what the man did to him. 

But not love. He’d always thought that romance was a bunch of crap. Valentines Day was invented by Hallmark to sell cards and candy. Soulmates weren't real. Every romantic relationship was doomed from the start. That kind of crap. Charlie would always purse her lips when he scoffed at romance scenes in movies and loving couples on the street. She called him a bitter child of divorce and said he was a victim of toxic masculinity, which made him hate anything romantic. 

Looking back, Dean sort of realized that he stopped hating love the second he laid eyes on Castiel. As cheesy and awful as that sounded. 

Maybe it was the pain pills and delirium of being sober. There was just something about the too-bright hospital lights that seemed like a halo over Castiel’s head. Lighting up the doctor’s face like some holy bullshit. There was a weird pinching feeling in his heart that said: “something is about to change”. Even after he left the hospital, he couldn't stop thinking about him. The sweet, kind of weird doctor who was determined to make him smile. 

Now, look at him. One chance encounter at Benny’s and a shitty car later, and he wanted to lay around all day with his head in pas’s lap. Wanted to spend every minute texting him. Shit, he’d almost said I love you.

Dean was snapped out of his pondering and the panic set back in. He snatched his phone off the ground and stared at it for a second. He debated texting Cas, but he had no idea what he would say. Should he apologize for moving too fast? Or maybe tell Cas that he was tired and didn't mean it?

He didn't want things to be weird between them. Not when they had finally fallen in place. They finally felt like they were on the same page. They were comfortable. So he decided to pull a Winchester classic: ignore it. Hopefully, if he denied that it ever happened Cas would forget about it. 

It was a mistake. Dean thought firmly. I’m tired and emotional. I didn't mean it.

By the time he went to sleep that night, he almost managed to convince himself that it was true. 

~

When Dean walked into the garage the next morning, Bobby all but ambushed him.

“How’d it go last night?”

“Surprisingly well. But you better not make a habit of handing out my address to random guys who wander in here.”

“You know I wouldn’t’ve given it up that easy normally. The only reason I did is because Mary called me and said he might come by.”

“Oh,” Dean tensed slightly at the mention of his mother. “You’re in touch with her?”

“Nope. First time I’ve heard from her in 20 years. Just told me Sam might come here then hung up when I asked her how she was.” Bobby fixed him with a look. “You’re not the only one she up and left, you know.”

Dean nodded, licking his lips. It was easy to forget that Bobby had been friends with Mary before the divorce. He started to walk away, but Bobby grabbed his shoulder.

“You be honest with me, boy.” Bobby squinted at him. “Are you okay?”

Dean smiled slightly. “Yeah, Bobby. I’m fine.”

“Hm,” The man stared at him for a second before nodding. “Good.”

Dean’s hesitant smile turned into a full-on grin. “You worried about me?”

“No, princess. Just can’t have you distracted on the job. Now get to work before I fire you.”

“Sure thing, boss.” Dean patted him on the back before walking away. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Bobby smile as he walked back into his office.

~

Dean texted Sam halfway through the day to ask where he wanted to get dinner. His heart clenched when Sam said he’d heard good things about the Roadhouse. Sam still didn't know about his drinking or that he had a lifetime ban from the Roadhouse for picking fights. He texted back some lame excuse about how he didn't like their burgers and suggested Benny’s. Thankfully, Sam agreed, saying that he’d never had Cajun food before. 

Dean drove straight home when he got off work at 5. He and Sam were planning to meet at Benny’s at 6:30. He wanted to at least shower before going out again. He’d cleaned up best he could at the garage, but he still smelled like gasoline and sweat. 

When he pulled into the parking garage at his apartment complex, Dean saw Missouri struggling to pull all of her groceries out of her car. He parked quickly and jumped out.

“You need help?” He called out. Missouri looked over at him and sighed. 

“As much as it hurts my pride to say, yes I do.”

Dean walked over to her little two-door car and started picking up bags from inside the trunk. 

“You don't normally get this much stuff,” He observed, closing the trunk with his left hand.

“My granddaughter is coming over this weekend.”

“Huh. Never knew you had a granddaughter. I thought you were too young.”

“Hush,” Missouri snapped. Dean grinned when he saw that she was blushing. 

They walked to the elevator in silence. It wasn't until Dean pushed the button for the fourth floor that she spoke again. 

“I’ve seen that handsome man of yours a lot more recently. The one with the dark hair.” This time it was Dean’s turn to blush. When he didn't reply, she continued. “Is he your boyfriend?”

Dean cleared his throat. “Yeah. His name’s Castiel.”

“Castiel,” Missouri repeated. “That’s an angel’s name.”

“Yeah, I- wait. You told me in August- you told me I was gonna meet him. Didn’t you?”

Missouri just looked at him with a twinkle in her eye. “I have no idea what you're talking about.”

With that, the elevator doors opened and she walked off into the hallway. 

“Wait-“ Dean stopped the door from closing with his foot and rushed after her. He stopped in front of her door where she was pulling her keys out of her purse. “You told me about Cas. Before we started dating. In August you said an angel was coming to save me, and the next day his car broke down and he came into my garage. Did you know that we were gonna see each other again?”

“Honestly, honey, I don’t remember. I’m old. I can’t keep up with that stuff.” Missouri opened her door and placed the bags she was carrying just inside the door. She held her hand out. “Thank you for helping me. I can take them from here.”

“I- okay,” Dean handed her the bags. “You’re welcome.”

When he turned to let himself into his own apartment, Missouri said, “Don’t take too long. Your brother is waiting for you.”

She closed her door before he could say anything. 

Dean whipped around and stared at the closed door for a second before shaking his head and walking inside. His mind was reeling as he took a quick shower. It was just a coincidence, right? How could she know about Cas before he did? By the time he threw on a new t-shirt and pair of jeans, it was already 6. He put the questions about Missouri out of his mind as he pulled on his leather jacket and walked out the door. 

When he got to Benny’s, Dean huffed when he realized that Missouri was right. Despite the fact that he was almost 20 minutes early, Sam was already sitting in one of the worn out booths. Dean waved to Benny through the kitchen window and walked over to where Sam was sitting. 

“Hey,” Dean said as he slid into the seat across from his brother. Sam looked up from his phone. “You’re here early.”

Sam shrugged and slipped his phone into his back pocket. “I finished my homework early. I didn't have anything else to do so I just decided to wait here.”

Just then, Benny walked up to their table and placed a cup of water in front of Dean. He looked Sam up and down. There was a weird look in his eye. 

“Who’s your friend, Dean?”

“This is Sam. My brother.”

“Oh,” Benny relaxed. He suddenly looked much more friendly as he smiled at Sam. “Good.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Seriously? You thought I was cheating on Cas?”

“Just making sure, brother.” He patted Dean on the shoulder and turned to Sam. “You figured out what you want yet?”

Sam looked a little embarrassed. “I haven't looked at the menu yet. I was waiting for Dean to get here.”

“Just let me know. It’s a slow night so you can just yell back into the kitchen for me.”

Sam nodded slightly. When Benny left, he turned to Dean. “I don't want to do that.”

Dean snorted. “It’s fine. I’ll do it for you. Me and Benny are friends.”

Sam smiled slightly and picked up the menu in front of him. Who’s Cas?”

“My boyfriend. He’s also friends with Benny. He’s just looking out for him.”

“But he thought you were cheating?”

Dean shrugged. “To be fair, I usually kinda suck in relationships. I’ve never cheated but that's only because I’ve never really had a serious relationship before Cas.”

“He’s the guy who was at your apartment last night, right? He kissed you.”

“Yeah, that's Cas.”

“No offense, but that dude scared the crap out of me. He kept glaring at me.”

Dean threw his head back and laughed. “He’s actually a sweet guy. He’s just a little protective.”

“I mean, I can’t really blame him. I’m just some random guy who showed up on your doorstep claiming to be your brother.”

“I guess,” Dean shrugged. “Enough about me. What about you? What’s going on in your life?”

“I live with my girlfriend, Jess,” Sam pulled his phone out and showed Dean his background. It was a picture of Sam with his arm around a pretty girl with curly blonde hair. “I go to Stanford, but I applied to law school. My interview is on Monday morning.”

Dean whistled. “Smart kid.”

Sam grinned. He was clearly trying to be modest, but he still looked proud of himself. “I know you're a mechanic. Where’d you go to college?”

“I, uh, I actually didn’t.” Dean swallowed and looked at the table. “I dropped out of high school junior year to get a job. Bobby gave me a spot at his garage and I’ve been working there since.”

“Oh,” Sam said. “I’m sorry-“

“Its fine, man. You didn't know. It’s just- Dad lost his job and I had to make sure we wouldn't get evicted.”

There was a moment of tense silence between them before Sam spoke again. 

“How did he die?”

“Dad?” Dean looked up. Sam nodded. “Car crash. He tried to drive home one night when he was shitfaced. Got t-boned by a semi. He was dead on site.”

“Jesus,” Sam whispered. “When?”

“Seven years ago. I was 19.”

“I’m so sorry, Dean.”

Dean shrugged. “I’d already moved out at that point. I hadn't talked to him in almost a year. He pretty much disowned me before that.”

“Why?”

“Well, he was pissed that I dropped out of school, even though I only did it to support his useless ass. Then he got pissed cause I’m bi. He said he didn't want a queer kid. But, uh,” Dean drummed his fingers on the table. “He never really wanted anything to do with me anyway. I think I was just a reminder of mom. That she left his ass. I mean, he only wanted custody of me to fuck with her. Joke’s on him, though. Doesn't look like she cared that much.”

“Dean-“

Dean cleared his throat. “You know what you want to eat?”

Sam looked down at the menu again and nodded. He looked so fucking sad. 

“Cool. I’ll go get Benny.” He stood up before Sam had the chance to say anything and walked over to the window. 

“You alright, cher?” Benny asked. 

“Yeah. Can you go get Sam’s order? I’m going to the bathroom.”

When Benny nodded, Dean hightailed to the tiny single stall bathroom in the back of the restaurant. He quickly went inside and locked the door behind him. He pulled out his phone and saw that he had a text from Cas. 

Dean tapped on the notification and was brought to messages. Cas had sent him a picture of him sitting on his couch. Under the picture, he had texted “I just got home from work. Call me later if you want to talk about Sam.” He’d also texted a little blue heart emoji. 

Affection swelled in Dean’s chest as he stared at the message. He scrolled back up to the picture. Cas looked fucking amazing. His usual white dress shirt had the first few buttons undone, showing some of his chest. His hair was sticking up in crazy places. Without thinking, Dean saved the picture and set it as his lock screen. 

For the first time in 20 years, Dean felt no resentment about being left behind. He’d spent most of his time fantasizing about the life he could have had if Mary hadn’t left him. But he finally realized that he didn't need her to be happy. As much as the past hurt, every little detail, every bit of pain, had brought him to where he was. Brought him to Charlie and Benny. To Cas.

Why should he be ashamed of the past? Why should he hide it?

Feeling more resolved than ever, Dean pushed himself off of the wall and walked back out into the restaurant. He had to tell the truth, no matter what the outcome would be.

Sam watched him warily as he approached the table again. 

“Are you okay?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah. I’m fine. Actually, uh, there's something I wanted to tell you.”

“What is it?”

Dean cleared his throat. “You know how you wanted to go to the Roadhouse?” Sam nodded. “I can’t go there. I’m banned.”

“Why?”

“I’m- I’m not proud of my past, Sammy. There's some stuff you don't know. I didn't know if you Googled me, but some bad shit comes up. Mugshots. I, uh, I’ve been an alcoholic since I was 16. I followed in my dad’s footsteps. I’m banned from a bunch of bars in town for fighting.”

“Oh,” Sam’s eyebrows furrowed. “That’s… That’s it?”

Dean was taken aback. “Uh, yeah. That’s it.”

“Are you sober now?”

“Yeah. I’ve been sober for about four months now.”

Sam grinned. “Dude, that's awesome!”

“You don't care? I kinda thought- I dunno. I thought you wouldn't want anything to do with me.”

“It’s not like you killed anyone. You had an addiction. You overcame it and you’re better now. I’m proud of you.”

Dean smiled. “Thanks, Sammy.”

“Of course.”

Sam seemed a little more wary of asking Dean questions about his past after that. It annoyed him at first, but eventually he just stopped caring. By the time their food came out, it was like 20 years hadn't passed at all.


End file.
